How You Remind Me
by primadonna cat
Summary: Set after episode 4.10. Sam and Dean travel to Nebraska to trace demonic omens. As Ruby encourages Sam to use his powers, she remembers her human past.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first Supernatual fanfiction. Everything wonderful belongs to Kripke and the CW. I'd rate this teen for the typical swearing and violence of the TV show. Comments and reviews are really truly appreciated! **

**How You Remind Me**

"_Slippery slope, Brother, just wait and see."_

"_Look Dean, I'm not gonna let it go too far."_

Chapter One

**S**heets of icy rain were falling just outside the walls of the abandoned house.

They weren't fully intact, just the skeletal remains of lathe and studs making up the outer wall of what was once the dining room of a two story farmhouse. The branches of shrubs naked in the late November afternoon raked against the sides of the structure making a chilling sound. Drops of water which had found their way through the rotting levels of the house fell upon a beaten leather chair. Their sound punctuated by the heavy footfalls of a rather impatient Dean Winchester.

The three of them had been camped out in this hovel for several days. The Winchester brothers, Dean and Sam, and their unlikely ally, Ruby, had chosen not to return to Bobby's panic room after Anna's disappearance. The brothers had argued over their next move, with Sam stating they couldn't afford to waste time hiding and Dean wanting to wait until Bobby returned from the Dominican. In the end, Sam's logic won out since neither brother wanted to bring the wrath of Heaven or Hell down on the older hunter. As much as Bobby considered himself family, this was not his battle, not one he deserved to be dragged into. For now, they just wanted to regroup after the events surrounding Anna. To rethink strategy. And this location, a place Sam had discovered shortly after Dean's death, seemed ideal until the temperature dropped thirty degrees and pummeled them with sleet.

**ೞ**

"It's colder than Hell in here." Ruby, dressed in only a black leather jacket and jeans, rubbed her bare hands vigorously together as she stared through the slats in the wall. Dean probably thought he'd been cursed to have to stay with her while Sam was off running errands, but that was the dumb luck of playing rock, scissors, paper with Sammy. The winner got the task of traveling to what ever posed as the nearest town in the warmth of the Impala. And of course Sam won, according to Dean, he always did. Ruby attempted to engage the older Winchester again. "Stupid expression, isn't it Dean? What I would have given for even an ice cube down in the pit."

"Not gonna work Ruby, I'm not talking about it." Dean didn't break stride as he walked from one end of the room into the other. "Shouldn't we be worried about more important things right now, like- where's Sam?" Dean paced into what was once a living room and looked out between the tangle of dried vines that now covered what was once a former window. He'd already looked out at least a dozen times, now he made it one more. "He's been gone an hour!"

"You'll wear a hole in the floor." Ruby deadpanned.

"He took my car! My baby." He gestured with his arms outstretched as Sam would; it was interesting to watch how siblings took on each other's mannerisms subconsciously.

Ruby leaned against the wall nearby; the small twitch in her lips could have been mistaken as a smile. It was closer to the fireplace, but no warmer, given a cold wind blew through the open walls. Dean was so easy to read. Despite everything he'd been through, and all the things he'd seen Sam accomplish since his return, the man was worrying over his younger brother. Parents worried when their teenagers took the car out for the first time. They envisioned dozens of gruesome ends for their "little ones" who they weren't able to protect any longer, often veering into the irrational. That was Dean, except his fears were grounded in the reality of the life they led and never unfounded.

"You're not worried about the car. You're thinking Sam went off after the rest of that group of demons we saw yesterday, aren't you?"

"Did he?" Dean spun around accusingly. "You've got the extra-sensory demon finder ability, my brother getting into something he can't handle?" Dean tightened his lips a moment and closed his eyes; when they opened the bright green was flaring with anger. Was Dean's fear for his brother's physical or spiritual safety? She'd heard no more discussion between the men over Sam's abilities, in fact the tainted hunter refused to speak even with her about it. A human fugitive from Hell should worry a lot more about his own spiritual health than his demon-blooded brother's. It's not like Sam ran around committing acts of evil. Dean, on the other hand, had spent forty years in the pit, it didn't take a demon or a genius to guess what he'd been up to in that time. Pot meet kettle, stone-glass house, it didn't matter the cliché, Dean just needed to shut up and leave his brother alone.

Ruby noticed Dean still staring at her and she flashed back a look of annoyance. What did he expect her to say? The irksome hunter wasn't exactly on her friends list even if he did offhandedly thank her for saving Sam from the despair his death had caused. He should be a lot more grateful, but that wasn't his way, and smacking him around for treating Sam with disrespect wasn't going to gain her any favor in Sam's eyes. So she settled on sarcasm as the best method for dealing with Dean. Heaps of snark with acid on top, the demon Middle Way, at least for her.

"He's okay", Ruby smirked. "He just went for food."

"Yeh, well, that kid hasn't exactly been the most honest since you started playing Dangerous Minds with him. He left over an hour ago, and his cell is out of service, so you'd better not be lying." His hand went to the sheath at his side and rested on the metal grip of what looked like an ornate hunting knife. Reminding her that it was the more vulnerable brother who carried her precious knife. Yes Dean, it kills you to know you are the weaker of the two of you, doesn't it?

"I know he's your BFF, that he tells you more than he tells me."

So jealous too, she opened her mouth, knowing nothing kind was about to come out and wanting very badly to say something that would make him feel crappier than he already did, but she closed her mouth instead and took a step back, not wanting to taunt him further. This was the first time she'd ever been alone with Dean for any length of time and with his gesture it was more than obvious he still held disdain for her, though much of it was just false bravado. He needed to save his anger for their real enemies. But survival instinct had a way of reminding you that picking on the guy with the knife that would plummet you back to damnation wasn't a bright idea.

She wasn't here for him, even if she felt like his babysitter at times, he was a constant block to the work she and Sam needed to do. Dean's unexpected return on the wings of the angels changed everything, and now she was muddling her way through her game plan. The restless pacing had resumed; the knife forgotten for the moment. If Dean went for the knife she'd have to put him down, carefully. Although he'd tried on two separate occasions to kill her; she wasn't about to kill him. Helping Sam through his despair at Dean's death, helping him to put down the bottle and regain meaning in his life had been an incredible challenge. Her killing Dean would result in her own death, Sam would spiral into maniacal suicide hunts and burn out before even finding Lillith. No, Dean served some use. Time and Dean's return made Sam no longer willing to go half crazed into a fight. Dean had returned more broken than Sam could ever see, and Ruby knew that forty years in the pit was plenty of time to strip away your humanity.

Sam had briefly shared with her his concerns over Dean's health. There were nightmares, and on a few occasions Sam was convinced Dean was seeing things that weren't there. He'd asked her if it was possible that Dean could see demons now through their human victims, and Ruby didn't know. Ruby expected he'd have nightmares or hallucinations, and seeing how the brother's were like one, it wasn't shocking to see Dean toss back whiskey at breakfastime. But this was all well beyond any knowledge or experience she had. A complete return from the dead? Now that was just of Biblical proportion and a million miles away from her pay grade.

Dean was too focused on his usual role as big brother to notice Sam was the one watching over him now. Ruby hoped this was the key to getting Sam to become what he was capable of. In the hopes of being able to best Lillith, Sam had taken a month to learn to pull a garden variety black eyed demon. With months of practice behind him he'd used his powers to protect Dean when he pulled Samhain. Sam could say all he wanted about putting his powers to rest, but if push came to shove he wasn't going to stand by and let Dean get injured. That was how he explained himself to Ruby, how he justified using what came natural, but what he fought off and denied. All these promises to protect his brother were lies because Alastair handed Sam his ass. They had barely escaped from a situation that could have been ended quickly if Sam had been willing to do the very thing necessary to harness his powers.

Dean stopped his dizzying pacing to settle down cross legged before the fire. The cold was getting to him too, despite his thick leather jacket. The abandoned house had served their purposes in the warmer months, but soon they'd have to move on. Ruby hoped the hex bags she had made them would keep the demons off their trail until it was time to face them. And Dean was right, Sam was more reticent than ever, but not just to his brother. He refused any discussion of his abilities with her. Her patience was wearing thin.

The filthy red couch still held it's position before the fire place, the memory of what had happened there bittersweet, better to avoid it altogether. She pulled up a chair near the fire. Sam would want her civil with Dean; she'd try. "He's not exactly a kid Dean."

"What would you know?" A flash of realization crossing his face. "No, no I take that back." His hand came forward, palm towards her. "I so don't want to hear why he's not a kid anymore."

"Funny." She grew suddenly very serious. "I had a brother."

This had the desired effect. Dean lifted his head to her. "Demon or human?"

"Human, his name was Fredrich. I remember him very clearly."

Dean had nothing better to do besides pacing, worrying, waiting, and freezing his ass off; so he decided to take the bait. "Was he younger?"

"A few years older, but Rosy was younger." Ruby went silent. Two seconds later the familiar growl of the Impala's engine was heard pulling up outside causing them to both look up and the conversation to cease. Dean moved across the room in seconds, grasped his sawed off shotgun, then cautiously stepped towards the door. A hunter never knew what to expect, and always was ready. Ruby admired that in both brothers. She didn't bother with the human precautions; there was no reason to worry, she already knew whose presence had entered the yard. Dean was acting on the instinct of nearly thirty years of hunting. The grip on the weapon slackened, the tension between his shoulders visibly released. The figure getting out of the car was definitely Sam. Ruby noticed, as she peeked through the broken walls, that he carried a bag from a take out place in his left hand and a much larger bag from a mall store in his other.

Dean opened the door for his brother and gave the Impala a quick once over. The road weary car needed a wash, but otherwise was in good health. Doting on a car was abnormal, as far as she was concerned, but Dean had so little in this life, it was impossible to begrudge these little sentiments. Sure enough his voice took on a softer, jovial tone as it always did when dealing with his little brother. The game face returned. "Whatcha bring back Sammy, I'm starving."

He gave a friendly swipe at the bag before Sam could even enter the hallway.

"Hey. Patience." Sam lifted the food bag above his head and out of Dean's reach. "I got you both something." Dean followed Sam into the "dining room" while Ruby hung back by the fire. It had been that way since Dean's return, Ruby letting the boys get to know each another again. If they were going to be at the top of their game they would need each other as allies. Her very existence was always compromising their relationship. She had hoped Dean would take it easier on her once he knew she's come to Sam's aid, and she supposed for him he was actually being more friendly. It was only natural for a hunter to suspect a demon. She sensed it was his experience in Hell that opened his mind a bit more allowing her to be a part of their lives. The million dollar question was how to get two stubborn men to walk a mile in each others shoes.

Sam began to unpack the take out bag, on the room's only table, lifting out foil wrapped burgers and placing them carefully onto white napkins to avoid its surface. He reached back into the bag, a smile on his face. "Dean, never say I didn't get you pie."

"Hey, first time for everything." The pie was nothing more than convenient store boxed and ready made. Probably closer to cardboard than the real thing, but it was pie, and Dean was pleased at a lot more than the menu. Dean grabbed a beer from the cooler on the floor then settled onto the beat up dining room chair, burger in one hand, beer in the other, and his brother in the seat next to him.

"Ruby?" Sam's dimpled grin lit up his face when he saw the demon come into the room. "Hurry up! Your fries are getting cold."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

**O**ne word, thoughtlessly spoken by Dean, set off her memories: _starving_.

Ruby seriously doubted Dean had any concept of that word's true meaning, or why something as simple as French fries made her very content. Starvation was hell, either on Earth or in the pit; it had been her constant companion. That one word, coupled with the cold dampness of the old house, brought back more memories of them, and of a life she was never suppose to remember.

_Bavaria 1348_

_It was the same, day in and day out; the cold hurting pain in her belly wouldn't go away. This evening was no different. Over in the corner of their hut, if that's what you'd call sticks bundled and patched together with mud, Rosalie sat still. Arms as thin as the branches making up their walls wrapped tightly around her drawn up knees. Too silent, like she no longer had the energy to even involuntarily shake. No songs, no silly stories, the cold was sucking the life out of the child. They needed food; they needed a fire for warmth. Moving around would be good, but there was no where to go but the open wind swept fields or deeper in to the forest where God knows how many wild animals, just as ragged and tired as they were might find them easy prey. At night, with so many predators with keen eyesight, they'd be found in a matter of minutes and eaten alive. The thought made her shutter, she might use her status as the older sister to act brave, but the darkness scared her. She'd heard stories of demons waiting to steal the souls of the unfaithful. They'd not gone to mass in ages, not since her parents had died many years before. It might have been the moral law that all attend the Sabbath, but the same folk who considered themselves godly were just as likely to turn a blind eye to the facts that among them were starving, ragged orphans who never graced the inside of their holy churches. _

_Ruby didn't remember the normal life they once had, the comforts of a bed and a full stomach. At six when his parents died, Fredrich could remember, and it haunted him all the more. He spent far more time than was necessary telling her and Rosy all about things like goose feather pillows and beef stew. Fredrich often dithered in the past, and Ruby didn't care for it. Reality, thinking about tomorrow, and how they might live out another day, that was what was foremost on her mind. Since twilight fell there was nothing to do but wait out the coming of day, and hopefully a meal via their older brother. Fredrich, where was the unreliable fool now? He'd gone missing again, this time for two nights. Lately, her older brother would disappear for hours, sometimes returning with food, but often with bruises and never with an explanation. This time had been longer, and now Ruby had the added worry that somehow her brother had more than a few bumps, that this time he might not return to them at all. _

_As if she knew what worried her older sister, Rosy spoke up. Her voice thin in the night air. "Ruby, I'm so hungry." Whined the small huddling girl. "Where's Fredrich, he said he wouldn't be gone long."_

"_You know Rosy, just doing what boys do, looking for work. He'll be back soon, I'm sure he'll get us something." Ruby crawled over and drew her little sister into her arms. "Tell me a story, like about the little girl who lived in the trees and spoke to the birds." Please talk to me, Ruby worried, be my little chatterbox, let me know you're alive._

_But the smaller girl only stared straight ahead. "I wish we had a fire." Rosy squinted in the dim light at the entry her sister had just occupied._

"_We don't have anything to start it with." Ruby pulled her arm around her reassuringly. "I have an onion we could share." Rosy clutched the vegetable. The onion was firm, but small, little comfort to two starving children. Rosy pressed herself deeper into the ragged shawl Ruby wore and turned her large eyes up to her sister's face. _

"_Won't work Rosy-Posy" The older girl sighed, "an onion's all I got."_

"_I know you got a potato hidden in your pocket. I saw you snatch it yesterday."_

"_You see too much little girl. Anyway, you can't have it. I'm saving it till Fredrich gets back, case he doesn't bring us anything."_

_Rosalie chewed on her bottom lip and fixed her with a sad stare. "Fredrich's always late, we're always waiting, I'm hungry. Please."_

_And that was all it usually took for Rosalie to get her way. Ruby pulled the hidden potato from her pocket and handed it to her eight year old sister. The little girl took a small bite then extended it to her sister. "Here, for you."_

***

"I got something for you." Sam Winchester lifted the shopping bag he'd brought in earlier and gestured towards Ruby, but despite his obvious desire to please her, Ruby moved back a step.

"Sam, you shouldn't." Ruby turned away disgusted. "I'm a demon. I can't love, and I can't care." Now he was buying her things? Listening to her advice was one thing, accepting guidance to save his ass, that was okay. Hell, even the occasional nookie was more than all right, but there were no strings attached. This, this bordered on sentiment. If he treated her like family then what would she give him in return.

"It's not an engagement ring Ruby," Sam gave a husky laugh and pushed the bag into her arms, but it only fell to the floor. "It's just something I thought you needed." Sam looked at her then, understanding evident as his features changed to the same dour face like she'd worn since his return. If only he was aware of what had just been in her memory moments before. His brow wrinkled showing his confusion. Ruby wasn't ready for show and tell, how could Sam possibly understand what had happened 700 years ago? She couldn't fathom why these memories were resurfacing at all.

Before she could get on her best demon-may-care game face, Sam must have sensed something and mistook her look for vulnerability because his eyes softened from their usual intensity, and his lips parted even before he spoke. "Are you sure, that you're nothing but a cold hearted bitch, because I'm not so sure that's true you can't care, you saved my life." Sam's lips parted wider as he took her shoulders gently in his hands and leaned in close enough to brush her lips with his own. Ruby pulled back, still reeling in emotions entirely human and foreign to her.

"What's wrong with you?" She snapped, not exactly the reaction he would have expected. He rarely made moves on her, it was almost always she who initiated kissing or sex, not that he'd brush her off, still, there was a distinction. Ruby was nearly certain there was no love lost between her and Sam, she served a purpose, nothing more; nothing romantic in the least.

"What? Dean's out at the car." He still stood only inches away. She pushed him on the chest, hoping to throw him several feet away, he barely moved. Contact with him, even through three layers of clothing, was a very bad idea. Those rock hard muscles had a way of seducing her, making her feel things that were more human than demonic, and that was not normal, at least not expected. Not so soon after thinking of her family and being raw with emotions that bordered dangerously on love.

Sam teased his fingers on her cheek. Ruby had no idea why he would want to flirt when Castiel and Uriel could just drop by and smite them at any moment. They were living (or existing) on borrowed time. If the angels didn't get them, there was no telling what manner of Hells minions might go for them next. Having both Heaven and Hell for enemies definitely put a damper on the libido. She wasn't too certain her hex bags she constructed would hold back Heaven's messengers, and if the charms didn't work there was no where to hide. After everything they'd been through in the last few weeks it was a miracle they were still alive, well, in her case not alive, but flesh and blood, on Earth. But Sam, what did he want from her? Why now?

"Ruby, what's wrong with _you_? I thought you-I thought we agreed to be honest." Good, her delay had gotten the message across to his thick skull. He'd finally backed away looking a bit like a dog that's been beaten one too many times. Sam was packing the last of their gear into his duffel.

"There's nothing wrong with me. You're the one who went shopping." For the moment it wasn't Sam who was the object of her focus, it was Rosy. Sweet Rosy, young, thoughtful. She called on her anger at Alastair and his recent torture of her to put some bite back into her voice. It wouldn't do to let Sam see her getting soft. "What's got you so excited? You got Lillith's head in that bag or something?"

Sam's bangs flopped into his eyes as he bent over the shopping bag making him look almost innocent and sweet, but the dull cast of his eyes as he faced her squelched all thoughts of tenderness. "I wish! Here." He pulled out a coat. It was black and puffy with a fur trimmed hood. "It's down, should keep you warm, I didn't know what you might like so I asked the sales clerk and she was about your age so she said this was stylish and practical."

"Practical? I've sunk so low."

"You hate it? You can, I mean, if you hate it, I can take it back?" Sam stammered uncertain. For someone so powerful, his human side was often a source of amusement.

"No, stupid, I'll take it. Beat's this crappy ass jacket I've been wearing." She stripped off her leather jacket and put on the new coat. It warmed her instantly and she smiled. "Thanks."

Gone was the man who'd been flirtatious only moments before, replaced by the hardened personality that only sought vengeance. "Good, glad you like it. Um, I think I'll see if Dean needs any help." Sam left her standing in the room, her hands in the downy pockets of the warm gift she had received. It had been a long time since anyone showed her kindness. In the months she and Sam had been a team there were times she could pretend she was human. It wasn't about the fantasy that she was his girlfriend or that he might actually prefer her company to someone else. She carried no delusions there, she knew it was a relationship of necessity, still, when they shared a bed together, when she felt the press of Sam's warm human flesh against her own, she never wanted it to end.

Having a redo to your existence wasn't something she'd ever heard of, but there she was, in a new unoccupied body, doing things that went against her demonic nature. Helping save an angel, whisking possession victims to the ER, saving Dean Winchester from a witch's dark spell, all these things went against nature and everything a demon should be. Perhaps the only thing she did that was selfish was care about Sam. Because with Sam alive and willing to listen to her, they could take on Lillith and whatever Hell sent their way.

But she couldn't afford to let Sam get too close, already she'd felt the pull of caring for another's well being, she knew no good could come of that. Everyone you ever love will leave you. Sam's attachment to Dean and his subsequent guilt over not being able to save him were expected. She knew from experience it was never a good idea to get to close. It only would come to a bad end.

*******

_Bavaria 1352_

_They had buried him only the week before, but already the press for survival was so strong in her being, she had little time to mourn. Ruby had learned it was unwise to depend on anyone too dearly. Fredrich hadn't been the most reliable anyway, spending more time away from his family than providing for it; leaving Ruby to care for Rosy. Ruby had taken on any task she could find to keep her sister fed and clothed. For two years they had stayed in the same village, working for scraps more suitable for swine, until last year. _

_Miraculously, on Rosy's eleventh birthday, when the two girls were helping glean the fields after the harvest, an ancient woman stopped to take notice of them. She beckoned the two girls to her like a queen addressing her subjects. Ruby had never seen a queen or anyone royal for that matter, but Rosy loved to make up stories of princesses who were stolen from their cradles at birth and sent to live in drudgery until they were discovered and rescued. The rescuer in Rosy's stories was usually a handsome prince sent on a quest by the King. And of course everyone lived happily ever after. If fantasy was what it took to get Rosy through the day, than so be it. Ruby watched as her sister made her way delicately across the field, she was a beautiful child who didn't deserve the ugly world their parents' death had thrust them into. Ruby longed to give her more, to help her find that happy ending, but she worried she'd take ill just as everyone else seemed to be doing and never even reach her teen years. _

_Rosy knelt before the older woman now and Ruby watched as the stranger rested her hand on Rosy's hair. It was a loving gesture, like something she would do for her baby sister, an odd sentiment to be seen in anyone else. But Rosy didn't seem to be in any danger. The strange woman's dress was clean and her hair well kept, though silver. Her smile was the toothless smile of the old, but seemed friendly._

"_I am known as Mother Helena." The voice was strong, yet gentle, addressing Ruby as she approached. "You must be the older sister Ruby, little posy here tells me, she is in your care." Rosy looked at Mother Helena as if venerating a saint; Ruby reacted by hardening her mouth and crossing her arms. "I am not here to harm you children. I would like to make an offer." Ruby knew well enough to trust no one, but that didn't mean she wouldn't listen to the offer the old crone was making. She didn't say she had a days work for them, didn't offer up a job to Ruby who was fully grown and stronger, no, the dried up looking old crone simply said. "Come along, stop wasting your talents in this field. I can tell that neither of you are simple minded, your eyes show intelligence. I will teach both of you everything I know. " _

_Ruby and Rosy made their way up the road towards the bright patch of flowers and herbs decorating the place they had called home for over a year. Mother Helena had been true to her word. The aged crone who'd noticed them sweating in the field was a midwife/herbalist who called Ruby her apprentice and Rosy her little petal. The kindness shown by Mother Helena was genuine. Ruby soon felt at peace with a maternal figure to take the place of the mother she could barely remember. The woman carried with her quiet wisdom and strength. Mother Helena had brought half the town into the world and eased the suffering of the other half, but with the coming of the plague her duties were in great demand. It was only after the towns people started dropping rapidly that anyone would think to question the kindly crone. _

_Ruby held her head high as she walked through the streets of the village towards the home she and Rosy now shared. Her brother had been one of many who succumbed to the Plague, but she and her younger sister had been lucky, so to speak. Surviving an epidemic should have been cause for celebration; instead, the townsfolk grew suspicious of those lucky enough to beat the disease. The two girls found themselves the object of talk. In times of stress the collective mind of townsfolk turned to superstition. The most common target, the town's midwife. Ruby was worried the people would turn on them, she needed to warn Mother Helena of the rumors she'd heard that day at the millers, and she needed advice on how they could protect themselves. _

_Rosy skidded on loose pebbles only a few feet from their gate. "Wait." Rosy extended her hand in front of Ruby so quickly she nearly tripped her. Though the girl was four years her junior she had grown rapidly once the sisters were able to eat on a regular basis, and had grown nearly as tall and heavy as her sister. Ruby scowled, lately Rosy had been acting strangely, stopping and turning her head at the sky like the angels were calling her name. It wasn't normal and with the current climate of paranoia people might take notice. And Rosy had been talking in her sleep, mumbling things about people in far away places Ruby had never even heard of. "Something's wrong. It's too…." She broke off as her face pinched into a tight grimace, her fingers flying to her temple. "No, no! Mother Helena!" Ruby's feelings were torn between her sister who seemed to be suffering pain and concern for her mentor. At a motion from Rosy's hand to go she ran the remaining distance to their home. _

_The front door was open, come during the summertime, but not so much now that the weather had turned cooler. Ruby swallowed and found the courage to enter. The small table the three had used for their meals was untouched, but the chairs had been over turned and lay on the ground. Ruby stepped carefully around them making her way to the back room they used to prepare medicines. As she pushed the door open with her arm she called out to her mentor, but received no reply._

_The reason for this silence was apparent in an instant. On the floor was a great quantity of blood, and lying only a few feet away from this horror was Mother Helena, her throat slit and her lifeless eyes staring upward._

*****

"Ruby?" The voice belonged to a tall dark haired man, the closest living being she could call a friend, though she heavily doubted that was the most accurate word for their relationship. It was the US, not Bavaria, and it was not the 1300's. Sam Winchester found Ruby sitting on the couch staring at the fire enthralled. "Ruby!" He called again. "We're movin' out. Bobby called, he's back at home now. There's demonic omens in several new locations, but the best lead he has is this town in Nebraska. It seems people are dropping dead a lot faster than the national average. We're gonna go take a look."

"Dean's letting me in his car?" Ruby went to the fire and stood before it, for a long moment she considered using her powers to move quickly to just disappear from the lives of the Winchester brothers, it might be easier…in the end, but for who? Them, or for herself. "Dean's hoping I'll do some demon whispering for him isn't he?" Sam laughed hard enough that his dimples showed.

"Not likely, I'm asking him to deal with it, we've got work to do, we can't squat here all day."

She pushed her way past him and made her way to the Impala. Dean was sitting in the driver's seat rocking out to Clapton's guitar solo in "White Room". She used her powers to slide into the backseat of the car unnoticed. Once Sam got settled on the passenger's side, Dean pulled out of the solo and put the car in reverse. It was only as he turned over his right shoulder to back out of the narrow driveway that he noticed her sitting behind him.

The car rocked when Dean hit the brakes hard. "Woah! Ruby, where'd you come from?"

Sam didn't give her time to answer. "I asked her. We could use her help Dean." Sam was using that deferential tone of voice he usually took with his older brother, half a question, half a demand. But Ruby knew that after Dean's death, Sam might use that tone to make Dean feel in control, but Sam would do as he pleased anyways. This time, there was no argument. Dean didn't have to answer, just shook his head and grunted, as he continued down the roadway. When they hit the main road he turned the volume up louder on the radio and drove on without a word.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Elkhorn, Nebraska was a typical town with a main street and a few shops scattered here and there and an over abundance of dollar and convenience stores. As Dean drove into town he noticed the faded "Elkhorn Days" banner left over from some summer festival hanging off the roof of an older brick building. The town had seen its better days, but even middle American poverty and the current state of the stock market didn't account for the emptiness on the street. It was 4:30, rush hour, well in a manner of speaking. There should have been at least more than the one Oldsmobile parked in front of a restaurant simply marked, BBQ. Not that BBQ wouldn't be nice at that hour, but Dean was tired having driven all day, and he wanted a beer and a shower, in that order. Then he and Sam could sort out where to begin with this mess Bobby had sent their way.

Dean found the grocery store just out of town; it was medium sized, but just perfect for what he desired. Sam had his face buried in a medical book of infectious diseases and waved off his attempt to get him out of the car. Thankfully, Ruby was no longer with them, having disappeared at a rest stop that morning. He wasn't about to order up two rooms for the night, nor was he going to even allow his imagination to venture into having Sam and her share a bed. File under: too much information. He stole one last glance at Sam and shuttered. It would have been far better if Sam had told him a lot less about the "adventures" he and Ruby had taken in his absence. Far less. Sam was ignoring him in favor of the book; so he made his exit from the car and let the cold air bring him back to the present and away from his unpleasant imaginations.

Dean surveyed the desolate parking lot. Three cars plus his own, where was everyone, he shuttered at the idea of some mass death by disease. Bobby had stated there had been several mysterious deaths, Sam had thought it was possible people were succumbing to an epidemic; thus his research into the medical journal. This made Dean feel no more assured. As he walked into the store he glanced in both directions hoping to find where they kept the beer. Every state was different and a new adventure, but he liked Nebraska, they kept the beer in one of the main aisles, easy to find. After he located a twelve pack, Dean walked past the meat case and the deli. The lights to both sections were off, their cases empty. _Good thing I'm not after a steak_ Dean thought as he made his way to the check out. Gil, a man slightly older than himself, and wearing a tag that marked him as store manager, was manning the register; there were no other workers to be seen.

"It's quiet here, everyone off on vacation?"

"Not likely." He pulled the beer across the scanner, lifted his eyes with a practiced look to check Dean's age and continued, "folks been ill, and people are scared. You know how it is?"

"Not really, I mean, what could be so bad everyone's afraid to go out?" Outwardly Dean expressed confidence, acting like a fool who'd never seen the strange before, let alone lived it, but within he was calculating; gauging that a man working alone would likely be a little more free with information.

"Several people been taken ill, like _e coli_ or somethin', s'all."

Dean nodded and pulled out his wallet. "So they all ate at the same Jack in the Box or something?" Dean leaned in, as if there actually was someone to over hear his next comment. "They didn't buy their meat from your meat department did they?" Gil, the manager, leaned away from Dean and met him with steely eyes and ice cold silence. Dean wasn't satisfied he'd gotten any answer from the man. "CDC's gonna be swarming around here soon, and you know this'll be one of their stops." More cold silence. "I'm just saying." Dean was kicking himself now for not having pulled a badge on the man, it was a little late now since he had already started in with the innocent civilian act. That didn't mean Sam couldn't come back later. His younger brother tended to be more persuasive with his acting. His talent of lying came in handy with their line of work, but it was a two edged sword. If Sam could lie so convincingly to strangers, then he could easily fool Dean too.

Having gotten nothing from the manager, Dean returned to civilian mode. "Hey, know the cheapest motel 'round here?"

"Pine Wood, but they're closed on account of William."

"Let me guess, he got sick?"

"He died, just yesterday. You can stay at the Western, they're open, far as I know."

"Thanks." Dean pocketed his change, grabbed the beer, and headed to the parking lot. Sam was still in the passenger seat intent on his book.

"Learn anything new, Dr. Quinn?" This earned Dean a disdainful tight lipped glare from his younger brother.

"Not so much, what about you?"

"Gil wasn't talking. I don't think he appreciated me saying his meat was bad."

"Gil? You on first name basis in this town, it ought to make the job easier."

"He's the manager. He told me nothing I didn't already know or couldn't have figured out. He said it might be _e coli_." Dean picked up some papers that were sitting on the seat between them. They'd had them a few hours since stopping at a copy shop where Bobby had sent it to them via fax. Dean gave the paragraphs a cursory glance. Chances were Sam had read already and could report them back in full detail. "The media think it's e coli?"

"They're speculating, and _e coli_ is one of the diseases mentioned, but you can tell they don't know, and the powers that be aren't sharing. If it's a basic epidemic, we're just wasting time here. According to this AP news feed Bobby sent, there have been five deaths, each one bearing similar features, so I've been studying this text on symptoms and I've narrowed it down."

"And?"

"The media is might be calling it an epidemic. The victims all died within 24 hour of getting sick. They all had swollen glands, high fevers, and three of the victims had seizures. But, that only means they had an infection, it could have been anything." Sam shook his head. "It's not necessarily demon science here, maybe it's just-

"Coincidence? Sam, since when do we deal in coincidence. There's like, 5,000 people in this town, what's the coincidence that five turn up dead in a week?"

"None. And if you let me finish-I don't think it is a coincidence. I think someone has deliberately made these people ill. The victims all are locals, they're all over fifty. I need to know more than that to narrow it down. To discover if it's demonic activity or just some vengeful neighbor. Cause it doesn't appear to be a poisoning, and who has the power to swing giving someone an infectious disease?"

"Maybe a witch?" Dean added.

"What ever we're dealing with is bad; we definitely have a case, but I'm just saying it might not be caused by a demon." Sam looked to Dean for confirmation. "The bodies were shipped to the coroners in Omaha. I say we pay them a visit tomorrow morning."

"CDC or FBI?" Sam smiled as Dean let him decide on their aliases.

"CDC, there's a disease here that's taken five victims in a three day period, demonic omens aren't just cattle mutilations and electrical storms, this might be just the thing Bobby was talking about, or not, but either way something smells, and I think we need to find out why.

ೞ

_Western Motel, Elkhorn, Nebraska_

The motel appeared at the side of the road much the way they always did. Popping up like some left over dream of a forgotten time, a time when people didn't forgo the American small town for the speed and efficiency of the interstate system. Typical in size and shape, the Western sported a neon ten gallon hat perched above its name that snaked itself like a lasso. A vacancy sign was lit just below it. Dean could count with one finger the only time he and his family had encountered a no vacancy sign, he'd been thirteen, Sammy nine, and it was Thanksgiving in Minnesota. Some freak snow storm had blown down from Canada to freeze them out early. They'd had to drive thirty miles out of their way until they found a motel with one room open, and that room had only one bed. They'd managed, and at least it was clean. He'd seen some seedy dumps in all his travels. Every new room was an adventure in the world of hygiene.

The Western's lobby didn't look too bad, it was simple, a front desk with one computer station. Two grey waiting room chairs, and a stand that held various tourism brochures. He liked giving his money, well Visa's money in this current case of credit card fraud, to the local guy. Sure, most people traveling across country would have chosen to stay in Omaha, but, by staying here, he'd help the small business owner instead of corporate America. That had to count for something.

As they entered, it was too quiet. Bates Motel kinda quiet, adding to that atmosphere there was no one at the desk and it was only six o'clock. Sam took point, moving around the counter to the small office before Dean had even considered pulling his gun from his waistband. This wasn't the first time Sam had chosen to lead, sensing danger in almost a preternatural way. Already Sam's gun was poised in his cupped hands. His body was tense, turning left then right and taking the front room and back office all at once. Dean followed him in a similar pose. "Hello, we'd like to get a room. Hello," Sam's deep voice called again to no response. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder. "Dean, this is just creepy, next thing you know old Norman Bates is gonna sneak up from behind." He wasn't spot on about psychos who liked dressing like their mothers, but something definitely felt not right. When Dean's scan swept the back office he saw nothing, but on second glance he thought he spotted a high heeled foot lying around the edge of a desk.

Sam got there first. He averted his head from the sight before him and coughed. Dean closed his eyes at the same thing that had made Sam wretch. A woman lay where she had fallen from her desk chair to the floor, dead. Stinking corpse dead; the woman's swollen body was covered in sores which oozed pus and a foul stench. Sam moved closer, his .45 drawn and ready, not that it would protect him from disease, but Sam was right to be cautious. How many times had they thought something was dead just to have it pop up to surprise you. Except, zombies and other hell creatures weren't into a gentle Casper the friendly ghost kinda "boo". What they encountered usually more likely to say, _let me choke the life out of you and eat you_." The bell that hung from the front door jingled; this shook their attention and both men looked towards the front entrance to see Ruby.

"Get away!" Ruby stood frozen in the doorway to the back office. "She's infected."

"With what?" Sam inquired as he remained kneeling at the body to give it a closer look.

"Plague." Ruby's expression took on a look of frustration that her words weren't being followed the instant she spoke them. "Get out of here. Now!" The Winchester brothers looked towards Ruby, understanding dawning on their faces. "NOW!" She repeated. "Don't go anywhere near that body! It's instant, it'll kill you!"

"'Kay," Dean said as he grabbed Sam's elbow and herded him towards past the front counter and towards the door. Outside Dean drew a big lungful of air.

"What the…" Dean started to say before Sam cut him off.

"Ruby, what's going on?" Sam turned towards his demonic ally. "You think all these people getting the Plague?" It wasn't your typical disease, but then neither were pus filled boils typical to someone dying of natural causes.

"I don't know for sure, but that's what it looks like, and you don't take chances with that disease. We need to get away from it." She looked to Dean first, then Sam. "You don't want to know."

"Maybe we do…what do you know that might help us?"

"Dean, I told you I lived when the plague was big. I wasn't kidding. It's the nastiest thing you never want to catch. It killed my brother; half our village, and it made a lot of people very paranoid. It's nothing to joke around about." Her eyes closed with a dramatic pause. They opened to focus on Sam. "This might be one of the seals. You know famine, pestilence, death, all that apocalyptic chaos. "

"Well, then we can't exactly run from it Ruby. Can we?" asked Sam. Ruby's look was venomous. "This could be a chance to locate Lillith."

"And do what Sam? You can't take Lillith. Look what happened with Alastair. She'll tear the skin off that pretty face of yours while Dean watches; then she'll torture him and throw him back to Hell. Is that what you want? Is that your idea of a battle, a way to get your vengeance or stop the apocalypse or whatever you've decided is your reason for fighting?" Her arms were crossed, her stance combative. "If you'd been training." Dean lifted his brow in irritation. She was starting in again with her temptations and Sam was being sucked right in.

"Maybe it's time then." Sam said it so quietly, so carefully, Ruby wasn't sure he had spoken aloud. Ruby shook her head in agreement; and when she looked to Dean as if to gauge his reaction and whether Sam had actually vocalized, he just looked saddened and closed his eyes briefly.

"Is that what you really want Sam? You want Uriel to come back here, after you?" He'd given his soul to bring Sam back to life and now the boy wanted to throw it all away, had he suffered in vain? "I wanted you to go on with your life, not throw it away."

"I am going on with my life Dean! I'm a hunter, and I'm doin' my job; trying to find Lillith." Sam was defensive as he always was about his connections to demons and his own freaky powers. But he was also on a rant, and he was going to voice how he felt like a courtroom lawyer out to convince the jury that his serial killer client was just misunderstood. While Sam's arguments always made sense, they weren't always the straightforward course of action most hunters would prefer, but the average hunter wasn't a college educated freak with demon blood. What set Sam apart as both a hunter and a human being was something Sam was beginning to accept as a destiny he could control, but for Dean it was a battle ground, made worse by the heavenly hosts who decided to join in on their game and set up a completely new rule structure. It used to be so much easier when they were just fighting random monsters. How he envied those people who didn't even know monsters existed, what he wouldn't give for that naivety.

Long before his birth and Sam's their mother had traded away any hopes of future safety when she dealt with Azazel. She brought them into this war between Heaven and Hell that they were currently muddling their way through, and he was sick of it, he hoped Sam was too. Though what good was complaining you didn't want to be part of stopping the apocalypse when God personally hired you for the job, he didn't know, cause he knew he wasn't going to get out of this task just by bitching to Castiel that he was too tired, too busy, or too damn sick of it all. Sam was in his face now, his back up with anger and indignation for Dean not seeing it his way.

"We're no closer to finding Lillith than we were six months ago. She's breaking seals while we dither, who knows how many she's gotten to so far. If Castiel wants us to stop the apocalypse he has to accept what I can do. How else are we going to stop her, huh? We can't kill her with the knife, and she's not going to sit still like a good demon while we give her an old fashioned exorcism, and that's no use either since she'll just find another body to possess. What does that leave us Dean? Cause Cas sure hasn't stepped forward with a plan, unless there's something you haven't shared with me. There's just this mandate to stop the opening of the seals. Great!"

Sam's voice dripped with sarcasm. Clearly he was just warming up. "Gotta love those angel friends of yours Dean: Here's the rules, stop Lillith, oh, but you can't use your powers. Good luck!" Sam threw his arms in the air and went to the trunk of the Impala. He opened it with the set of keys he kept himself. Dean rushed over, worried Sam was about to grab his gear and set off on his own. It wouldn't be the first time an argument set them on different paths, but he needed him now, the work they had to do, he couldn't go it alone.

"What are you doing?" Sam was pawing around in the bag he kept his clothing in. His hand closed around something small before Dean could see what it was. Sam closed the trunk lid quickly and climbed into the passenger side of the car. Dean guessed Sam was done talking for the moment, and at least it seemed he wasn't running away. He started up the engine and made for the highway. They'd stop at the first motel they'd spot in the next town over, hopefully a town where all the citizens were healthy.

While Sam had been ranting, Ruby had slipped away. But Dean knew she'd already done her damage, tossed Sam a bone he didn't want to refuse. The two brothers sat in the car staring straight ahead. Sam didn't used to fight over strategy with him, with Dad yeh, but he always let him lead. That's what this was all about, gaining control. His four months away had damaged that dynamic, but he wasn't tricked into believing it had all started then. Sam had always held his own counsel, trying to boss him around like Dad did never was going to work. "We operate on whatever intel we have. Castiel's been quiet. I don't know if this is a seal or just a routine job. What we know if there are five, no make that six dead people and if they all had the plague or some other infectious disease then it's either an epidemic or a case. So what do you say we head north until we find another motel? We'll drink some beers, watch some pay per view, talk strategy, and call it a night."

"Sure Dean." Sam's voice was distant, his head turned towards the window. "Whatever you want." He grumbled.

ೞ

_Jeannie's Dream Motel_

_3 Hours Later_

Dean Winchester was pigging out on chips and drinking what Sam guaged to be his sixth beer, judging by the empties on the nightstand, when Sam said he was going to take a shower. He'd really met bath, but he was tired of the ribbing Dean gave him whenever he chose to do something Dean didn't find particularly "manly". Sam had no doubts about his own sexuality and what he preferred, and it wasn't aberrent sex with demons. He'd once loved Jessica, and their life together had been completely normal. She never would have made fun of him taking a bath, she would have joined him. But his love for Jessica belonged to a man who no longer existed. A man who may have once been worthy of human touch, but who now wasn't completely certain he was fully human. He hadn't made love to a human since Jessica. Better to play it safe, stay away from any potential complications.

Sam sighed as he closed the bathroom door quietly behind him, if he was lucky, Dean would fall asleep and not interupt him, and he needed at least an hour, if he was going to do this right. He began to run the water more as a noise buffer than anything. From his pocket he drew out the object he had secreted from his duffel earlier that evening, a tiny brown pouch made of leather and tied with a piece of suede. His fingers trembled as he loosened the cord and the bag opened into a round circle. Spread on the open leather bag was sprig of Gotu Kola twisted with dark brown hair and a tiny bone. His tongue absently found the space in the back of his mouth that his molar once occupied. It was once a healthy tooth, without a filling, but now it lay on the brown leather next to the other items of the hex bag. His own personal hex bag. The last item to complete the bag was a tiny metal cup that looked mostly like it was designed to serve a boiled egg, but at closer inspection it not only was to small for such a task, but it contained sigils and spell work not of this time and uncommon on dinner ware.

A knock sounded on the door. "Sam I gotta take a leak." Sam grunted and rolled the items of the hex bag back up and stashed them in his pocket. Better to have Dean interrupt him now than once he'd begun the ritual. And if Dean relieved himself now, that would give Sam all the time he needed. He opened the door, rolled his eyes and let Dean pass by him. Dean was quick and as he exited the bathroom he gave a Sam a wink. "Take all the time you need, Sammy. I'll just turn the TV up loud."

Sam nodded. Just great, his brother expected him to be doing normal male things in the bathroom. Now he'd have to fake an orgasm for his brother. That was just so wrong.

Now that he had his privacy, Sam set to work. He pulled off his shirt and examined his body. Buff, was Ruby's choice of adjective for describing the lean muscles covered in unblemished flesh. There were only a few scars, a raised purpled area on his shoulder from when Bela had grazed him with a bullet only last year and right below it the new healing flesh on his bicep from the church window he and Dean had used to escape Alistair. His old scars had faded faster than he would have considered normal. Not completely sure why this was so, but he had his theories, and they all pointed at Azazel. None of this mattered at the moment and it just made what he was about to do easier. After a week or two the thin cuts to his skin never left scars. From his shaving kit he produced a small flat razor blade.

His glance went to the palm of his left hand. He'd taken blood before by scoring the life line or the love line or whatever it was called. It was a perfect spot, never noticed within the natural crease, but it always stung for a few days, especially if he had to handle a gun. This time he'd cut his upper abdomen. Dean rarely saw him shirtless, and with it being so cold it was even less likely. The small copper chalice was in his left hand, the blade in his right. He sucked in a breath and held it as he moved quickly across the skin. Within a few seconds he had what he needed to perform the summoning.

He muttered the Latin under his breath, the memorized words were hardly any different than the words he spoke to summon Ruby, they were nothing more than a witch's spell, but they held some unique words, and a slightly different outcome.

It always built from the inside first, like a side stitch from running, a cramp building in tension as it moved outward from his core. Then the nerves tingled, the blood within his veins awakening. Sam knew enough now to keep his head down, to not look at himself in the mirror. The first time Ruby had guided him through the ritual she'd been shocked as if she'd not expected her work to be successful. He would not look in the mirror; he needed no reminders of where his power came from. What was needed was something to ground him before the omnipotence of what he was capable of overwhelmed his senses. He had to keep it grounded. Had to remain Sam.

The focus was a little girl. Her name was Audrey. She lived in Washington and had once wished for a talking teddy. Stoic, but charming, the little girl had helped them solve a case involving a Babylonian coin and a wishing well. Audrey was why he was opening himself to these abilities, why he was fighting, and why he had to stay in control. Lillith needed to die, and if he was going to be successful he needed this strength, but not for himself. This was not a time to be selfish. Whenever he awakened the powers they attempted to take on a life of their own. They may have been Azazel's profane "gift", but he reminded himself as he grunted through the headache they brought on that they were his to command. Audrey and millions of innocents like her were why he was summoning his own blood to strengthen him. "Audrey." He whispered, stealing a glance into the mirror and into the yellow irises he'd brought forth. His head was pounding now, and he bit his lip and rocked slightly from the pain. It was at the apex now, reminding him that he was pushing forth his powers for immediate use. Except Ruby had taught him differently. If he were to own them, he had to reign them in; use restraint.

As much as he needed them to find Lillith, to stop the demon from opening the seals and bringing forth Lucifer, from bringing forth the apocalypse-Hell on Earth, he wasn't opening himself to them that night for that specific purpose. Ruby wasn't wrong, he _was_ flabby and this was just a workout. No little "Audrey" deserved to suffer at the hand of any demon. And Lillith was fond of children. If it wasn't Audrey; it might be another like Ben Braeden, the little boy they'd met last year whom Dean was convinced was his child. He thought of all the innocent children who would be targeted by evil, this was the greatest job he and Dean had ever worked. Could he afford to be cautious, to play by the angels' rules? He didn't think so. His headache was subsiding and he felt the euphoria that accompanied the ritual and he knew for a time his powers would be strengthened and if he chose to use them they would be focused. There was work to be done, the Winchester way. Sam smiled at his reflection, his irises now a mix of green and blue.

The bathwater was still warm as Sam eased himself in. Taking a bath was no easy accomplishment and he'd learned a long time ago it involved deciding which part of his body ached more and deserved a soak, his legs or his back. It was a simple decision that evening-his back was sore from the miles in the Impala and the cold unforgiving pit they'd been camped out in for days. He slid down letting the water roll over his chest where it briefly discolored as it met the skin he'd sliced during the ritual. Cleaning the cut might not be a bad idea, but he'd forgotten to grab the soap. It still over on the sink in it's paper motel wrapper. A light grin lifted his lips as he extended his right arm towards the sink. The soap left the counter and floated to his outstretched hand. Sam unwrapped the tiny bar and savored the familar smell before dipping it into the water. He was relaxed, at peace. This was the right thing to do. It was his job to save people, it was the family business, there were no other options.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

_Omaha_

_Next Morning_

Dean parked the Impala on a side street two blocks away from the county office building where the unlucky Elkhorn citizens rested at the coroner's office. The public street was less likely to have cameras, best to stay off the grid. They'd had plenty of luck with their fake ID's, but that didn't mean he had to park conspicuously and proclaim their presence. In his experience luck only lasted so long before trouble, often in the form of a SWAT team with a battering ram, came knocking at your door.

He'd eaten a light breakfast just in case the coroner wanted to show off his mysterious cadavers. Forensic doctors tended to be over zealous in their work and time spent in lonely basement morgues made them seem almost lonely. Whenever he and Sam went undercover as CDC they were ready to be grossed out. Years of visiting morgues, seeing bloated, discolored, and dismembered bodies, had never completely taken away the urge to hurl, especially when the bodies were particularly ripe with disease. Walking along side him, Sam looked fully Federal in his black suit and red tie. He'd slicked back his hair and shaved just that morning. Dean knew with his own short hair he ought to be the more visually convincing of the two, but with Sam it was much more than appearances that sold him as a Fed. He seemed to like acting like a pompous know it all, and again Dean was reminded of how well Sam would have handled himself in a courtroom. Sam looked relaxed enough, but Dean noted how he had skipped a second coffee, and had only eaten half his pancakes. Sam hated dealing with dead bodies just as much as he did.

They both knew well that these bodies were likely to be as potent as the one they had found the night before. Last evening, after spotting the body that Ruby claimed was infected with the Plague, they had exited the motel quickly and headed towards the next town. Sam insisted there was no harm if they let someone else find the motel clerk. Ruby had been almost hysterical telling them someone else would get the disease if they came upon her unknowingly, but Sam, the walking encyclopedia of weirdness that he was, had insisted only blood to blood contact would spread plague. Try convincing someone who lived through it of that, but strangely, Sam did just that. Dean stole a glance at Sam, who had not spoken since they had parked the car. Sam's mind must have been elsewhere, probably gearing up for the ruse they were about to pull off. His younger brother liked to get into character, he preferred to ad lib.

Security at the building was a typical metal detector and ID check. With their weapons in the car, the boys had nothing to worry about, but Dean knew the day would come when retinal scans were required. He just hoped to be out of the business by then. It was hard to believe the same technology that made hunting more accurate could be such a pain in the ass. Too bad the FBI couldn't accept the favor hunters did them and put them on the payroll. Well, this was no X-files, so he could just stop dreaming.

The first stop was the coroner, Dr. Leonard's office. They were greeted by a man their age wearing a badge that stated his name as Dr. Thomas. He shook their hands with determination and openness like one colleague to another. "You feds move fast. I just called the CDC an hour ago. I sent over the fax, so I was wondering when they'd send someone out."

"We're out of the local office. Agent Robertson, Agent Helm." Both men flashed their badges simultaneously. "We're looking to see if there's any pattern to these deaths."

"Have your autopsy reports drawn any conclusions?" Sam added, trying to sound astute.

"Well it was in the report I faxed out yesterday," the doctor looked towards Sam impatiently. "Outwardly it could have been half a dozen different diseases that manifest in these symptoms, fever, swollen glands showing an involvement of the lymph system, but the onset and the time until their deaths, was so brief it had me baffled until I took a second look at their bloodwork. These people all had advanced deterioration of their mucus membranes, they had internal bleeding, gangrenous sores. You get one person like this you think maybe its advanced stage HIV, but this was five folks in three days, this is definitely a contagion. Their primary cause of death was a bacterial infection. Are you ready for this in 2008?" He appeared excited by his discovery. "They died of bubonic plague."

"Nobody dies of the plague." Dean stated all too hastily, his brow wrinkling as if the doctor's words were a delusion the man had created to explain what he couldn't figure out. But Dean knew he and Sam dealt with all manner of the unexplainable, the plague in modern America wasn't much, given what they'd seen. So Ruby was right, God he hated conceding to her.

"It's possible," Sam added, "but it's spread by contact with fleas, it's November, wouldn't they be dead?"

"Not if the conditions were right, it's possible, but we're also dealing with a bacterium, so in theory if someone were to bite or bleed on another it could be spread."

"But I'm guessing that's not what you saw? That they didn't get it from each other? " Dean asked.

"It's possible, since it spreads through blood, but mostly though from the bites of fleas or an infected animal if it pierces the skin since humans don't usually bite each other. And there were no bite marks on the bodies-human or otherwise. That's why you don't think about it as an illness anymore. Most of the world's a lot cleaner than it was in the 1300's. Not so many rats or fleas. There hasn't been a case of plague in Nebraska in over twenty years, and even that odd case was an isolated hermit living out in the middle of nowhere in a house without electricity or running water." Dr. Thomas fixed Dean with a challenging stare. "So what's the CDC plan on doing?" Dean looked to Sam for silent confirmation. This was definitely a case. "These people weren't from the same families or even the same neighborhoods."

Sam's brow was wrinkled up the way it always was when he was deep in thought and didn't have an answer. "And you've ruled out any comorbid diseases?" That gained a nod of affirmation from the doctor. Sam with the fancy vocabulary, he had a way of being convincing in what ever role they played. "We're going to exercise caution, not panic the people of Elkhorn. Would you have a copy of the report we could take a look at right now?" Sam used his sweet soft voice and his gentle little head dip and the assistant coroner gladly complied.

ೞ

Dean and Sam never wasted time leaving a building after impersonating federal officers. Dean whisked them out of Omaha and back towards their motel while Sam put together the real story of the deaths of these people. The file didn't contain much. There was a medical history for every victim, and an interview of family and the people who found them. Sam had a gut feeling this was a case since they'd driven into town. But a case involving demons, that he wasn't so sure of. Bobby's intel was always spot-on; so the hunter part of him held faith that this was true, but the psychic part of him, the abilities he'd yet to share with Dean, were uncertain. In the months of Dean's absence Ruby had shown him how to sense demons without relying on following omens. And right up to the day Dean found him in the motel in Pontiac, Illinois, he had no trouble sensing their presence nearby or as far as a hundred miles away.

Then Dean came back. Hiding his abilities from Dean somehow caused them to atrophy. What Ruby surmised would be a natural flow of energy from that ticking bomb inside him shrunk back into him and threatened to shrivel up and die. And so he had to return to the blood ritual, that summoning of Azazel's "gift" Ruby had shown him as a method of focus. It was witchcraft, but he supposed it wasn't all that different from some of the rituals he'd seen Bobby do, and the outcome of Bobby's work wasn't demonic or self-serving. Nor was his; it served humanity.

"Hey! Wake up little Suzy!" Sam blinked. His eyes felt dry and he coughed and stretched. Crap! Dean had caught him "trancing".

"Must have fell asleep with my peepers open!" Dean laughed along with him as they remembered the first, and only time, they'd heard someone say that. It'd been years before in Wisconsin when they'd been hunting the striega. For at least a month after that old lady had spooked them by speaking when the thought she was asleep or worse, they had amused themselves with that expression. Dean loosened his tie as he drove, his grim face a bit lightened. Sam had succeeded in changing his focus.

"So, Sammy, what are you finding? Cause all I'm getting is flashes of a Stephen King miniseries that I don't want to be a part of. You think this could be pestilence, some part of an apocalyptic end game? What did these people all have in common besides living in the same town?"

"They were all are over fifty, had preexisting vascular conditions." His eyes scanned towards the bottom of the page. "Interesting, they'd all been on the same bus trip."

"Bus trip, like the senior center bus trip? To what? There's absolutely nothing to do in this backwater." Dean's tie was finally free and he tossed to the backseat. He was fidgeting with his collection of tapes; Sam shot him a look. If Dean so much as thought of Motorhead, he was going to pound him. Annoying Sam with that particular tape was just what Dean liked to do when he felt tense, and his older brother seemed more restless than intrigued by the case. He couldn't blame him, they both needed a rest from the apocalypse. A wendigo or a crocotta would be more interesting and less threatening now, but it would just distract from them from the focus: Lillith. It didn't matter if Dean was tired of all this demonic omen crap. The end of the world waited for no one; they'd have to see this job through to the end. But that didn't mean ticking Sam off with loud metal wouldn't be a fine distraction before the main attraction began.

The tape was an unmarked copy; so Sam had to wait an agonizing five seconds before the reel made it's way around. When the music began at an ear bleeding volume, Sam jumped a mile. "Ugh! I knew it! Not this shit again!" He was too quick for Dean. He popped it out of the tape deck and tossed it to the backseat. "Next time, it goes out the window. I have my limits!"

"Hey hey! Got ya!" Dean was bouncing a bit in his seat like a happy child. "Truce, I call Metallica, you said you liked their ballads." Strands of Sam's slicked back hair came free as he shook his head in disgust. It was true he could stomach Metallica, but it was more for the lyrics that he found speaking to him, reminding him how to some he might be the Hero of the Day, and to others the Unforgiven. He'd bet anything Dean felt the same way. The tape was several decibels lower now and Dean would be able to hear him speak.

"Dean, if you haven't noticed we're on a case." The files held some info worth investigating. "The bus trip was to Fremont, Church of the Good Shepherd. To play Bingo." Sam quipped.

"Bingo!" Dean smirked. "Hey that's almost as much fun to say as Yahtzee." Sam grimaced. "Well, where's this church? Let's play."

"Wait a minute," Sam shuffled the paperwork before him seemingly ignoring Dean's question. "They didn't just play Bingo that day, they were regulars." Sam looked like an excited child; he always did when he'd realized something essential to cracking a case. "I'll keep reading Dean, you get us to Fremont."

Ten minutes later they'd arrived in the small town of Fremont. The church was on the main street and the large BINGO banner conspicuously strapped to the brick front of the building marked their location better than a GPS. Dean parked the Impala in a row near the exit at the back of the church. Sam was still reading as he turned off the ignition. "Put the book down Urkel, let's go play Bingo."

ೞ

_Fremont, Nebraska_

_Church of the Good Shepherd: Bingo Room_

Dean Winchester immediately noticed the swivel of heads as he and Sam entered the large open room. Sam piped up with his thoughts exactly. "Looks like the Centrum Silver crowd. There was a bus out front, right," Sam looked around with worry tinged with panic when not one but two older woman checked him out. Catching a wink from a white haired grandma made his eyes go round. He turned to Dean and grabbed the front of his jacket. "Look, I'm not taking one for the team this time. Okay. If old Gert flirts, she's all yours." He shook pointed his finger subtly at Dean.

"Funny. Admit it, you like older women." That earned him the trade mark Sam look, he'd already gotten how many that day? "Don't look so traumatized; let's just get this over with." They both paid their entrance fee and took five cards a piece. The tables were mostly full except for one in the middle of the room, so much for being inconspicuous. A middle aged woman in her early fifties moved about the room with youthful grace. With curly sandy brown hair and a thin fit body, she looked like someone who alternated her days at the local co-op and the Yoga center, and she seemed to be in charge of managing the players and their cards. Once they settled in their seats Sam spread his cards out before him letting his long bangs cover his eyes.

"This place looks normal enough," he said keeping his focus on the table before him.

"How would you know?" Dean whispered. "You haven't looked up since we came in." Dean pulled a card away from Sam. "Trade ya, for good luck." He gave a quick smile and shut up. Numbers were called very quickly by an older man who despite his age didn't look frail, sort of like Clint Eastwood. If he lived that long that's how he'd want it to be, but with his life and the sacrifices it entailed making it through his thirties was unlikely, let alone living to eighty. Getting into the game was easy and it was basic, and caused the mostly geriatric crowd to raise their voices in excitement as each letter number combination was read. Dean was filling up a diagonal quickly on one card and wondering if this might be easier than hustling pool, when Sam called out.

"Bingo!" His gawky younger brother was met by the middle aged Yoga woman who wore a badge that named her as Angela Markham. She checked his card and verified the win.

She pushed a stray strand of her hair behind her ear and smiled, "you get a special card for that win." She placed it before Sam along with a slip of paper he could cash in later. Her flowing skirt twirled as she turned to walk away, a true cougar, and after Sam, what was it with these older women and his brother? Dean barely had time to bare his teeth and let out a small mocking growl. Geek boy was still hard on the case and after the facts.

"Excuse me." Sam's quiet voice caused Angela to turn. As frightened as he was that he might have to fight off her advances he looked her directly in the eyes. "Isn't this the place where all those Elkhorn folks who got sick were playing? Are you worried you could catch something?"

"What, like legionnaire's disease?" She shook her curls confidently and her cheeks showed a set of dimples as charming as Sam's. She was an attractive woman and she knew it, but something in her nonchalance demeanor didn't seem right, didn't seem appropriately remorseful. "I know those people came down with something after being here, but there's no connection to our church."

"Your church?" Dean jumped into the conversation.

"Yes, I'm a deacon here at Good Shepherd, and the Bingo hostess, among other things. It's awful what happened, but I heard they were sick to begin with. Unfortunately a lot of our frequent players are ill." Her glance went a few tables away to a man wearing oxygen. "They're older, but they have a good time while they can. Who can begrudge them that? We have tons of players, even younger people like yourself who are just passing through, and they aren't getting sick. It's a sad coincidence."

"I'm sure the CDC will figure something out or the FBI. This one's too obvious to just fly under the radar." Dean pointed out.

"I hope they work fast, if it is an epidemic, there's no telling how many lives could be affected, and young people like yourself, that would be a shame." Her dimples appeared again, but her smile never reached her eyes. Sam may have begun the conversation, but it was Dean who was continuing it, probing for answers, and now holding her attention. She heard her name called and gave them a quick nod before heading to another table.

Dean shoved Sam's upper arm. "I think she likes me, not you." He continued in a whisper. "And that was my card, my win!"

"You traded! And I told you, I'm done with older women." Sam said in a voice that was laugh out loud funny and out of character. "I wonder what I made." He sing songed. But Dean didn't join him; he glanced at Sam's new play card.

"Dude, that's got serious spell work on it." He whispered, and Sam slipped the card into his coat as slyly as possible before exchanging a look of understanding with his older brother. The two stayed long enough to play through several more games to avoid Angela's suspicion, then exited, hoping no one noticed.

As they crossed the parking lot, Sam spoke first. "I don't trust Angela Markham."

"Deacon Markham? Me neither. She made me think of a carnival fortune teller with the wavy gravy skirt and the chunky jewelry. Weird."

Sam stopped to zip his coat, and Dean pulled his collar up against the cold arctic wind that made Nebraska feel more like North Dakota. "She's a witch."

"How do you know?"

"Just a feeling."

"Like your psychic stuff? Can you read her mind or something?" Dean frowned. When Ruby talked about Sam using his powers again he wanted nothing more than to send her back downstairs. As much as he hated to admit how she saved Sam, he still didn't trust her. And sadly, he didn't always believe what his brother had to say, especially in regards to his abilities. Sam had told him before that he wasn't using them, and wouldn't, but that had been proven a lie several times. Sam's next words added insult to injury.

"I think we should check this out with Ruby. Maybe she knows what those sigils mean, if they're part of spell work or a summoning ritual." Dean cast a hard glare at his younger brother, hadn't they already been down this route. Give it time and Sam would choose to go off with his demon lover or whatever she was. He tried to smile, but it was strained. Trying to stay casual was an effort in the face of what he was truly thinking, but pressing Sam into a corner might end with him choosing Ruby. Sam had already demonstrated a willingness to use his psychic powers despite saying he was finished with them, and that had to be due to Ruby's encouragement. Dean sensed there was more that had happened in absence and since his return than his younger brother hadn't let on about. They'd had secret meetings before he'd even gone to the pit; why would they stop now.

He'd joke, make Sam comfortable, reassured. "Sure, whenever Ruby flies in on her broom, we'll let her take a look." He stopped in front of Sam, hand outstretched. "Sam, let me see that card." When he made contact with Sam's coat sleeve, Sam visibly flinched and shook him off. Dean lifted his hands like he was being interrogated by the police. If the casual non threatening route wasn't working, he had more than one trick up his sleeve. He could make Sam see it his way; he had with less effort, when a lot more was at stake. "We don't need to consult a demon. Anyway, I say we go the direct route, we check out Angela Markham later after Bingo. She's the one that gave you the card. So, if she's really a witch, like you seem so convinced of, she's probably the one who created it."

Sam only had one object in mind, asking Ruby for advice. With his knowledge and the resources he had he could have researched the sigil himself easily, or given Bobby a call. There was more to what Sam wanted, and it'd been that way for some time now. Dean could only guess what Sam was going through having to remain after loosing him and having to come to terms with what Yellow-Eyes did to him. Still, just because he'd been hurting was no excuse for bad manners. Dean had been through plenty; a Vietnam vet was likely the only person who'd even come close to knowing his pain. He gave so much to his family, to people in general, but there was no money in it and barely ever a "thank you for saving my life" from those he helped.

"Whatever, Dean, you go do that-_after,_ but I wanna see if Ruby's heard anything new. She'll have a good idea of what sigils those are and I've got those two new books we picked up at Bobby's. Let's get back to the motel and start there." Sam's voice was velvety soft, a perfect match for the dewy innocent look he affected. Next came the tilt of his head, the slight lift of his brow. Practiced. But today, Dean wasn't falling for it. Today it only served to be infuriating, one more grain of salt in the wound named Ruby. For as helpful as she was, Dean wasn't falling for it, and though he'd never admit it out loud, he didn't want to share his brother with the Hell Bitch.

Sam dodged around him, his long legs carrying him towards the waiting car.

Dean had to move faster, but he passed in front of Sam once again. It looked like the direct route was his only option. "Sure, get the latest from the demon network, yeh, great intel. Really reliable." All efforts at persuasion were disappearing like a snowman in the Texas sun. "You forget, we don't know where she is."

"Lay off Dean, Ruby's been helpful." Sam pressed forward into Dean. He wouldn't touch him, and never taken a swing no matter how angry he'd become at his brother's exceptional stubbornness, but that didn't mean, he wouldn't use his size to his advantage to simply move what ever obstruction out of his way. "Dean? Move out of my way." Dean stayed in position. Sam huffed jutting his lower lip out a little. "You gonna hit me? Cause if you're all done here, I'm gonna go find Ruby and you know, keep working the job."

It was Dean who backed down, concern written across his face. "Maybe I'd trust her more if she just didn't come and go so mysteriously. I mean, where is she now? Huh? How do you find her? Got something you want to tell me?"

Sam looked back over his shoulder; he seemed to be trying to keep from bursting with anger. "I'm going back to the motel, see you later." He passed by the Impala and his last chance of reconciling with Dean and headed up the highway. There hadn't been too much snow yet; the shoulder of the road was covered in the left over grime, salt, and mud that was a part of typical winter road maintenance in Nebraska, but there were no snow banks. At least Sam wouldn't be walking half in the road, he'd hitch a ride with someone, get back to the motel just fine. Their motel was just west of Elkhorn; at least ten miles from the church parking lot. Dean resisted the urge to call out to Sam, to try to get him into the car. His brother was a grown man and knew how to take care of himself, but wasn't that his job? "_Not anymore. He doesn't need you."_

Self-doubt wasn't helping him any, nor was staring at Sam's shrinking back as the distance grew between them. In the end he just drove off, in the opposite direction, better to let things blow over, cool down. The ungrateful whelp could have his way this time, and maybe Ruby would have the answers. But he missed the simple times when he could ask Dad or even Bobby for help without having to defer to a meddling demon with questionable intentions. Sam seemed reluctant to involve Bobby, and he feared it was for more reasons than just trying to keep the man they knew like a father safe. Sam was never that altruistic, not when he was in need, Sam could be quite the selfish bastard, and a spoiled one too. Dean knew there was only one cure for his jumbled feelings. His fingers slid to the old style knobs on his tape deck. The speakers sprang to life carrying the voice of James Hetfield loud and clear. Yep, nothing to it. Sam was slipping away and all he had was his car, this stupid tape he'd heard a thousand times, angels with cryptic missions, and hell on his ass. Great life if you don't weaken. The flat stretch of highway begged the Chevy to run free. Dean gave the old girl what she wanted and raced along empty road with Metallica blaring from his speakers.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**: I want to thank everyone who is reading and following my story. It means a lot to me as this is my first Supernatural fanfiction. I love the brothers Winchester! I'm sure you do too, that's why you're here.

I have to ask a **HUGE** favor: if you are reading this, will you please give me a review? Reviews are love and they make this experience even more fun! Thanks!

******************

**Chapter Five**

**R**uby cursed the hex bags she had so carefully created for Sam and Dean. The bags prevented both demons and angels from finding the Winchesters, but it also meant she had no means of contacting Sam. She had paced around the tiny motel room waiting for him to call, or for him to return from the Bingo place. She wanted to have a good private chat with him about his powers and she hoped he'd agree to getting away from Dean for awhile. It wouldn't due to have the older grouch putting down her every suggestion. Sam still followed Dean's lead, and she knew despite his new found independence it would always be that way. They'd stick together. And she understood Dean's motivations, no matter how ridiculous it seemed to be caring for a twenty-five year old man, it was his baby brother. That's how older siblings were with the younger ones; some things time never changed.

_Bavaria 1352_

_The two girls lay on the grass under the enormous shade of an ancient oak tree. Each lost in her own memories of a woman they considered family. Ruby felt tears filling her eyes as she pictured Mother Helena the first night they were at her house, how the woman had sat them at the table like royalty and fed them not just bread, but a thick stew, and a mug of milk. The tears began to roll down her cheeks and it hurt to swallow. Rosy should see her strong, but it was too hard just now to stop. Mother Helena had given them a bed inside; treated them like girls and not dogs. It had been more than just training them and giving them a job, it had been love. Now they were back to where they'd begun, orphaned again. They had hastily packed a few items and food before leaving the place they had known as a home for the last year and set out to find a new town. _

_Ruby breathed deeply to stop the flow of tears and rolled over on her side to face her little sister. Rosy lay with her arms outspread, her long brown hair fanning out around her head. She looked much younger than her twelve years. Her face was serious, serene, but her eyes were dry. She'd not seen Rosy cry yet, and that bothered her. Rosy was more angry than hurt by Mother Helena's murder telling Ruby if she found out who was responsible they'd find themselves in the same condition. The words she spoke were chilling. They were in so deep now, there was no one to help them, she would have to protect Rosy at all costs._

"_I think we should go east, people say there's no sickness there. We can both get work, least I have some training as a midwife now, and your sewing's really good, maybe you could get apprenticed to a seamstress." Ruby tried to put courage into her tone of voice, but the facts were bleak. Many survivors were heading east, there was no guarantee anyone would be willing to take them in, and there was always the horrible worry that men might try to take advantage of them. When Rosy didn't respond, Ruby leaned over to brush her hand across her cheek. Rosy didn't turn, didn't respond at all._

"_Rosy!" Her eyes were open now as she lay staring towards the sky, entranced. "Rosy! Answer me! Wake up!" Ruby was over her sister now, patting the girl's cheeks with her hand. Her younger sister glowed with joy, lips moving wordlessly like a prayer. At Ruby's harsh touch she blinked a few times before turning to face her sister. Subconsciously, Ruby moved back a few inches at the sight of her sister's eyes. For a moment she had thought she'd seen them turn a golden color, but she realized it was probably just a trick of the light from the sun as it filtered down through the trees. Her sister's calm blue eyes focused on her, and everything felt normal again. _

"_It's beautiful." Rosy said languidly._

"_What is?"_

"_This tree, how old do you think it is? It must be more than one hundred; it'll be here long after we are gone."_

"_Rosy, something's not right. You, were, a little out of it a minute ago. Just staring. What were you doing?" The girl paused, as if ready to measure every word she was about to utter._

_In a voice barely above a whisper she told her: "It's like a prayer Ruby, but not really a prayer. I let it come to me and then…" She broke off, her face flushing crimson._

"_Rosy, don't you dare hide stuff from me. What's going on?" _

"_Promise not to be mad at me, please?" Ruby nodded. "I knew Mother Helena was dead. I saw her throat sliced open." Rosy's lips trembled and a tear slid down her cheek. "I dream about things, and then they happen." The younger girl looked at her sister, her only living relative, with a look that broke Ruby's heart. She was afraid. Ruby pulled her into her arms. _

"_Whatever this is, we'll figure it out." Ruby took the girl's face between her hands. "Tell me about the prayer."_

_A hard defiant look darkened Rosy's eyes. "No." However, Ruby did not let go. "It's scary, but it's how I command it."_

"_Command what? The dreams?"_

"_Yes," her words came out rushed," that's all I'm doing Ruby, just a little farseeing, it's easy."_

_Ruby darkened. Mother Helena had appeared to be a good woman who prayed to the saints, used herbs only as medicines, and went to mass like the other townsfolk. There was nothing malevolent about her, which made her death even more tragic. Ruby found it impossible to imagine the older woman teaching Rosy the dark arts. Its dangers were something she'd lectured Ruby about regularly. "Black magic." Ruby whispered. "Mother Helena forbade that, never control the elements, you know that." Ruby stood up suddenly and paced a few yards away. _

"_I can explain, it's not the same. I just let myself feel empty and then this light comes, and fills me up and then for a little while everything's clearer, then I can farsee. It's not spell work cause it comes from me."_

"_You call this a prayer? You think angels are enlightening you my little posy? Cause it's far from that, angels don't give humans powers, only demons do. This. This isn't good. You're walking a bad path little sister" Ruby's head shook with displeasure, "I don't like it. You're to stop, you hear me?" _

_Rosy wasn't a typically defiant child, but mostly because Ruby had never been heavy handed, had never really had to scold her over anything worth debating. Rosy was more than happy to follow her big sister's lead, but apparently not today._

"_I'll use my farseeing if it helps us. If not, then I'll keep it to myself." She walked away from the shade of the tree, letting Ruby know she was more than done with their conversation. _

_**** _

A maroon Chevy Lumina came to a halt on the opposite side of the road. The dark tousled head of Sam Winchester quickly appeared above the roof on the passenger side of the car. Ruby over heard Sam's voice as he leaned over the door frame talking to the driver. "This is good, thanks." He nodded to the driver and shut the door. As the car drove off Sam stole a quick glance to the paved area that fronted the motel and acknowledged Ruby who was standing by the entrance to the Laundromat that was connected to the motel. She wore the new coat he'd bought her and a coy grin. There was nothing new to share with him. Demons didn't have an RSS feed on the world wide net. The usual networks available to her were becoming fewer and fewer, a sign that Lillith's followers were growing.

She leaned against the wall with her hands shoved in her pockets as if she had not a care in the world. "What took you so long?" She shouted. He ran across the street and advanced on her quickly. He had yet to speak a word, but seeing he was hitch hiking helped her to piece together what had happened. Dean was missing, but Sam seemed unconcerned, this could only mean one thing.

Sam's nose and cheeks were bright red, and he looked not in the mood for her old snark. Being abandoned by a pig headed brother who drove off and left your ass to freeze could do that to a person. The walk had to have been horrible, even though he'd worn his hoodie. But the jacket was too short on him and his shirttail hung out. The sleeves barely reached his wrists, not to mention he was bare handed. He'd likely left his gloves in the car.

Sam rested his hand on the wall above her head, but she remained casually indifferent to his body language. "You might try carrying a cell phone instead of just coming around when it suits you." There wasn't a hint of kindness in his voice.

So he was going to play aggressive with her, take out his anger at Dean and place it on her. Well two could play at that game. She slid lower on the wall and just far enough from his reach. He reacted as expected, looked indignant, and placed his left hand just to the side of her face. It wouldn't have been a surprise if he'd just lifted her up on the wall, but there they were on the side of the highway, not the best place to draw attention to yourself if you could help it.

Ruby held no power over Sam, couldn't pin him to the wall, nor push him away with some invisible force field. She'd known that the moment she met him, she had no delusions about her limitations as a black eyed demon. She was once human, and in the eternal scheme of things, not so long ago. She always tried to make it a point to not take on things she could not handle. Some might call her a coward, but she liked to think of it as self-preservation. Taking up with the Winchesters, however, might not have been the wisest method for staying off the grid, but there was no turning back now. Hell's fugitive crossed her arms and gave Sam a glare; she'd have loved to look down her nose at him, bring him down a notch off his high and mighty horse of self-righteous grandeur, but at a foot shorter she'd need a chair to do that and chairs didn't commonly plant themselves on street corners in the middle of godforsaken Nebraska.

"You might try using that power of yours to make contact. Oh, don't even bother saying it, I know what you're thinking, wouldn't take any demon mind reading ability to sense that. Sam Winchester isn't gonna go there. I've already heard it. Still, you know how I feel."

"And you know I have my limits. I'd like to remind you I'm human. And this human just walked five miles, while freezing his ass off. Figures I'd get almost to the motel when someone finally picked me up." He moved away from her and started towards the motel room. "Dean didn't come back yet did he?" She trotted along behind him. As far as she was concerned this conversation hadn't even started.

"No. I've been here awhile, just waiting." She raised her brows. "You two have a fight?" His silence answered her. "Let me guess, Dean didn't get his way? He drove off steaming and stewing like when he discovered you were using your powers again."

"Don't act so smug."

"It's the truth isn't it? Dean doesn't trust the brother he returned to, you scare him," she shrugged, "and he just hates me."

"You think?" Sam unlocked the door and was greeted by a welcoming blast of warm air. "It's not that simple. Dean has issues with me using you as an information source." He spent a few minutes by the radiator before he removed his jacket and laid it on the bed. When he was done he realized Ruby had been watching his every move. "What?"

"That's mighty noble of him to want you to stop using me Sam." Sam had the look of a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "So what is it that you _needed_ me for?"

"This." Sam produced the spell worked Bingo card from his jacket pocket. Ruby slowly turned the card in her hand while she scrutinized the border of the card. "What do you think? Could this be a way of killing the victims?

"They're sigils, they could mean nothing, but they could also be more like a mark, like a hex bag." Her eyes sought answers. "Who gave you this?"

"Angela Markham, she's a deacon at the Church of the Good Shepherd in Fremont. She's also the manager of sorts at their Bingo Hall. This is the card she handed me after I won." Ruby was too busy looking at the card's ancient symbols to see Sam's mouth form an O. "Ruby, that card was originally meant for Dean."

"How?" They were sitting together on the bed now, the mushiness of the mattress forcing them closer together. If it was a turn on for Sam, he certainly didn't show it.

"We switched cards, for luck." He snorted while trying to deal with his runny nose. "Look at this symbol." It's definitely a sigil for a demon. I just can't remember--" He mumbled to himself before rolling to his side to reach his backpack and to paw through his bag for a book. It afforded her a good view of his behind and when he sat back up he caught her wanton expression. Ruby leaned towards him; they hadn't been alone in ages, and now here they were, alone, big bed. She was picturing the things she wanted to do to him, but he just sat there impassive with the book in his hand. It would take two hands to pry it from him, no, it'd take the demonic strength she didn't possess, to control a man who held within him more power than she could possibly imagine. And he wouldn't want her advances, at least not now when he was working a case, and when Dean's safety was in question. Sam's focus on a hunt was rather like a cold shower.

"Is it familiar to you?" Her eyes fixed upon his lips and she wondered if he was aware of his habit of leaving his mouth open when he was deep in thought. She willed herself to stay on task. Sam's long fingers traced the geometric design on the page before him. "There's seven total on this card, odd choice of numerology, you'd think she'd have used four, it's a more powerful number."

"I thought you needed my help? You seem to be doing just fine, Urkel."

"I didn't know demons watched a lot of reruns on TV?" She caught the beginning of a dimple, at least she could still get him to smile.

"We have down time." At least she'd caught his attention, but he was pretty kinetic when he was in thought and keeping up with his movements within the small room was a daunting task.

Sam had gone to the kitchenette and laid the book on the table under a rather tacky chandelier made from an old wagon wheel. It was hard to imagine a time when anyone would have considered it to be an attractive choice for décor, but now was not the time to ponder feng shui for the motel room. The more pressing matter at hand was which demon the sigil belonged to and if Angela Markham even knew what the symbols on the card meant. People commonly drew shapes without really knowing the meaning behind them, but when Sam described the other Bingo cards he and Dean had used; it was pretty plain that Angela had not acted innocently.

"Here." Ruby placed her hand over the yellowed page carefully not to actually touch it. The book was Bobby's and it looked like a first run off of Gutenberg's printing press. "The demon, Merihem, I should have known."

Sam read from the text: "Merihem, one of the mid level demons of Hell. The demon associated with disease, gangrene and worms." He looked to Ruby. "Ringing any bells?"

"Witchcraft, summon a demon, gain power. Been there, done that. If Angela is the witch, then it makes sense, she just hands the marked card to her victims and works her spell from a remote location. No one's any wiser. Used to be easy, people got sick all the time, now we have the CDC investigating everything. Makes it more and more difficult to be a good witch these days."

"Yeh, I bet the paperwork's a bitch." Sam slammed the book shut and picked up his cell. "I'm done arguing with Dean." His finger hit the speed dial, after four rings Dean's voicemail picked up. "Damn, he's not answering." Ruby looked poised to speak, but turned and went to the chair by the window.

"But why is she killing these people?" She watched as a bus drove by on the highway. "You said they were all older?"

"Yeh, over fifty, all riding the same Bingo bus. Ruby, this could be like Samhain, sacrifices, something to open the seals? Maybe the demon Merihem needs a number of blood sacrifices to be summoned. Or it could just be that Angela Markham doesn't like particular people. Does it really matter why? If Angela is the killer, then we need to stop her." Sam's willingness to take human life had improved over the time she'd known him. There was a time when he would have begged mercy or hoped the person could be changed. This was not to say he didn't go the compassionate route more often than the average hunter, but he was morally grounded in the idea of stopping evil. He no longer differentiated between human and monster, to him, a monster deprived humanity of its safety, and he'd end that no matter what form it took.

"I'm not arguing that." When Ruby turned towards him she wore an expression of genuine concern. But that doesn't answer why she would target Dean." That had the desired affect. Bring in the family loyalty and Sam was right at attention. "You said that card was meant for him and you traded."

Sam tipped his head the way he always did when he was measuring her words and trying to pick through them to find the deceit. He remained silent, calculating. It wasn't the easiest task to get him riled up, but her next question had the desired effect. "Samhain required random sacrifices, no one specific. And Dean is certainly far from old, so why him?"

"We need to figure out where Angela is and Merihem." He slammed his hand on the table. "Dammit Dean!" Sam was furious, but that didn't matter. It didn't matter who was wrong or right, Dean might be in trouble. He was too much of a risk taker. "I bet he went there. That's what we fought over. He wanted to pay a visit. I said we needed to consult you first."

"That's why you walked back here? Stubborn ass, if he'd learn to listen to you we'd get a lot more accomplished."

"Well, maybe, but we still don't know for sure if the demon's been summoned or if it's even at Angela's."

"You know how to find a demon," she shrugged. "and Angela. Don't look at me like that! You can do this, it's easy; it's the most natural skill you have. Do you want to help your brother or not? You know you can find him, even if he's wearing that hex bag I gave him, money's on the fact he'll probably have gone to confront Angela." She crossed the room to where he stood. "Sam, if Angela's our witch and Dean's as hellbent on answers as we know he is, then we've gotta hurry. He could be walking into a trap."

Sam let out a long breath before giving Ruby the look that said, "you won".

"Let's do it." He'd been on board before, but always failed to see his training through. This time he would own his power, not the other way around. With Dean no where in sight she could get Sam to perform the ritual that would make him strong enough to control his gifts without fear.

********

**A/N :** _Ruby doesn't know everything, now does she? Dean's not the only one in the dark about all that Sam does. :(_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks for all of you who are following this and commenting. **

**Chapter Six**

_Brookfield Manor Mobile Home Park_

_Just Outside of Fremont_

Angela Markham was a deacon at the Church of the Good Shepherd. So as Dean knocked upon her door he relaxed his approach, to the unsuspicious she'd be assumed to be a good Christian, trustworthy and worried about the Bingo patrons who might have come into contact with a deadly disease. And if she were innocent, that would be all this visit would uncover. He should play the friendly, but somber CDC agent determined to solve his case. It wasn't too much of a stretch from the truth, now was not the time to break down the door and enter with his gun drawn. Despite the symbols on the pilfered Bingo card, which Sam was so convinced only Ruby was capable of deciphering, there was no proof that Angela had created the card or even knew what sigils or witchcraft was. However, he hadn't been a Hunter for twenty-five years for nothing. If someone was guilty he'd sense it.

There had been three winners during the first round they played, and Dean wanted to know why Ms. Markham would choose to hand his brother the marked card over the others. The other winners, like those who had died, had been over 50, somewhat unhealthy to begin with, isn't that what Angela had said, and wasn't that the same information in the coroner's report, too? Better to see what Angela knew. He could always get a good read on people, tell if they were lying by the tell tale movements of their face. The door opened suddenly as he was just about to rap his knuckles.

"Didn't we meet already?" Angela held her door in one hand and leaned on the frame with the other. Her sweater hugged her body in all the right places and Dean couldn't help letting his eyes fall lower than her face. "I never got your name. You and that other man you were with didn't stay very long after he won. And I gave him my lucky card." More dimples and flirting occurred before Dean had time to open his badge.

He pulled on his best, "I've got a corn cob up my ass" look and continued. "Agent Robertson, CDC. My partner and I are checking on those who may have been exposed to the infection that's killed some of the visitors to your bingo parlor. We thought it might be a better idea to talk to you privately. We didn't want to scare anyone when we saw you earlier."

Her tight plastic smile greeted him making him wonder just how recently she'd gotten her Botox injections. "Well, come in. It's way too cold to be standing around outside."

He followed her further inside. There weren't really rooms inside the double wide trailer, just one open space that served as a combination kitchen, dining room and living room area. It was all very well kept, no signs of altars or magic anywhere. Just a slim china cabinet filled with, well what it was supposed to be filled with, china, a knick-knack shelf attached to the wall, and a bookshelf. Dean glimpsed the titles, mostly mystery paperbacks by authors Sam had probably heard of and would scold him for not knowing. On top of the shelf were candles, ordinary white in a brass holder. Overall, Angela's place was not impressive at all. Dean lifted a decorative bell that sat next to the candles. "Ah Vancouver, heard it's nice there."

"I wouldn't know, bought that at a yard sale, just thought the bell looked kinda pretty." Dean saw nothing more of interest, as if a witch practicing black magic would keep her tools of the trade out in the open anyway. He'd originally hoped she'd still be at work and he could have searched the place unhindered, but that would have been too easy. Now, the only way he was getting to the bottom of this would be to get her to talk.

"Do you like tea or coffee?" He waved off any drinks, he'd learned his lesson with the African Dream Root experience last year. Angela wasn't alone in her trailer, she poured fresh coffee into the mug that sat before her other guest. It was the Clint Eastwood guy from the Bingo Hall; who sat with an erect posture possibly never seen in the old; his weathered hands gripped around the mug. Now he seemed even younger, except for the age spots on his bald head that marked him as someone who spent too much time in the sun. In Nebraska it was more likely he had been a farmer who'd forgotten to wear his hat one to many times than a frequenter of beaches. The two of them together made an unlikely pair. Why this older man had buddied up with a potential witch was perplexing.

"Agent Robertson, this is a good time for me to introduce my colleague, Raymond Crandall. You remember him from the church?" Raymond batted his eyes and extended his hand rather daintily. Dean gave it a firm shake anyway, man had a right to choose his sexual orientation, even at eighty. Still, the Bingo caller remained silent, and it was awkward.

"Ms. Markham, we're trying to solve this as quickly as possible. We want to avoid there being any kind of epidemic, and." He paused dramatically. "We'd hate to have to close down the Bingo hall." She'd returned to the table, mug of coffee in hand, and sat down. Although she seemed concerned by the way her face was pinched, she sighed and composed herself. Angela gave Dean a look he read as confrontational. Well, he could play hardball too. "By any chance have you had a rat problem at your church?" She gasped. Time to make that more sensible. Sam would have known just what to say and would have been all that more intimidating. As much as he hated to admit it, the younger Winchester was far better at playing a tight ass. Well, maybe he did want to concede that ability to his brother. There were more attractive qualities to be remembered for. Still, he found it useful to bring to mind Sam's tone he used in such interrogations.

"It's just that the victims were infected with a disease that's carried by rats, and since they don't live near each other the only place they came into contact was at the Bingo Hall. I'm looking for answers; I wouldn't want to have to shut you down. I'm sure the church needs all the money it can get in these economic times."

"Don't you think if it were that simple we'd have an outbreak among our parishioners and not just the Bingo patrons?" Her voice softened. "We could always check for rats, exterminate them if needed. There's no reason for hysteria, agent, this isn't the middle ages."

Dean chuckled. "Right, and this isn't a witch hunt." Angela's face hardened.

"Our turn to ask questions. Raymond is a fellow deacon at the church, and anything that applies to me probably is his business too." Raymond remained so silent Dean would have chalked it off to senility if the man hadn't trained his gaze on him like he was a quarried animal.

Angela casually sipped her coffee as if she hadn't a care in the world. "What year is your Impala?"

"What?" Dean was taken aback by her off topic question.

"Is it a '66 or '67. I just can't put my finger on it." She leaned across the table towards Dean. "Why does a CDC agent drive a classic Chevy Impala? That's what I'm wondering." She was smug, too confident, he expected her eyes to turn black any second as her mood flitted from hot to cold. "It's a beautiful car, isn't it Raymond?"

The older man laughed. "Great car, never had one myself, I always drove a truck."

"Agent Robertson, I can tell you're a man who doesn't like wasting time with small talk. So let's get down to business. Who are you really? You wouldn't be half of that infamous hunter duo that won't leave well enough alone would you? What do you think Raymond? She deferred to Raymond again and that's when Dean smelled it, only faintly. He'd thought the source to be something natural, something unfortunate in the old, but now he knew, sulfur.

"Oh, that's one of them all right, I can smell his soul a mile away." Dean pulled Ruby's knife, but not fast enough as Raymond's arm shot forward to hold his wrist in a steel grasp. Dean grunted with the pain and the knife clattered to the floor. Raymond wasn't looking so tired and weak now, and when his eyes flashed black, Dean knew how the older man kept his spunk. "He's a pretty one, let's have fun with him before we kill him."

Dean felt the bile raise in his throat. There was no one in this room he wanted to be anywhere remotely physical with, especially an old man who was sounding vaguely seductive. The term Hell on Earth was coined for moments like these and he had plenty of experience in all manners of torture in the pit. When Angela stopped the ruse of calling the possessed man Raymond, Dean knew he was in for it.

"Oh Jellisa, now you've given away the ending. Don't worry Dean; I won't let her touch you like that, not while she's in an old man's meat suit. But that doesn't mean I have to be hands off." Dean pulled his head away as she leaned in for a kiss. Being pinned to his chair left him few options on which way to go. Her lips pressed hard against his closed mouth. "Hard to get huh? I'm not surprised, with your reputation. Oh, sweetie, I promise to be gentle, leave you with some happy memories before you return to Hell."

"She might play gentle, but I'm not so sweet. The demon Jellisa gave Dean a mighty right hook that would have knocked the average man out. Dean spun with the direction of the blow, but fell from the chair and landed on his hands and knees on the floor. He wished he had time to savor the irony of having the crap beat out of him by a girl who just happened to look like Clint Eastwood, but he needed to get to his feet and fast. He did a quick scan along the floor for Ruby's knife and knew he'd have to improvise. He came up fast and gave the old man a sharp elbow to his knees. Their fight continued at a pace unusual for the old, and Dean was wondering if Raymond Crandall's body would hold out. It didn't matter since the demon Jellisa would keep him up and running until he could get that damn knife into her.

The possessed man sent a flurry of punches at Dean, but he dodged them to make a quick move behind. A sickening crunch sounded over the man's spine and Dean knew Raymond's heart was now the least of his worries. Dean elbowed Raymond in the kidney causing him to double over. The possessed man wore a look that said he'd had enough and Dean wondered if he was dead already. This brought him a precious few seconds to look for the knife, but it was no where on the floor. Angela stood in her doorway staring at him. "Looking for this?" In her hand was Ruby's knife. The demon possessing Raymond swung at Dean, but Dean sidestepped and ended up with nothing more than his ear grazed; as the demon passed him he used his elbow to beat the demon on the back of the head.

He had but a moment in the fight to throw a bit of sarcasm Angela's way. "You know that's not my knife, and when the owner finds out you have it, she's going to be really pissed."

"Who, Ruby?" Jellisa snarled. "That whore has a big surprise awaiting her. Too bad you won't be around to see it." Jellisa had taken the advantage in the fight and now held Dean's jaw in a painful grip. His hands clawed at hers, but found no relief.

Angela stood menacingly close twirling Ruby's knife in her hand. "Jellisa, I haven't had my turn with him yet." Jellisa didn't look amused as she lifted Raymond's hand and threw Angela across the room towards her couch. The deacon landed heavily into the cushions, but managed to keep hold of the knife. "But you promised me a cut on the action." Just great, a pouting witch and a demon with a jealous streak. What a great team.

"Shut up!" The demon thundered.

"What? I thought we had a deal? You said once I got him here I could help. "

"Oh, there's more to come Angela, an eternal theme park of fun, but I'm afraid there isn't time to play with our young hero now. He's been a very bad boy...and now he's all mine." He lifted his arm and Dean lifted off his feet. Dean got in a few good kicks to the demon's knees, but he saw no reaction. The demonically possessed old man lifted his left hand as if poised to serve a volleyball and extended it forward. There was nothing Dean could do to stop from flying across the room and into the dining room table. He lay sprawled there, stuck, unable to even turn his head or rub his aching jaw. The old man's body language was definitely feminine as he advanced on Dean. The coquettish tilt of his head and pout of his lips no doubt was Jellisa's idea of poking fun at human mannerisms. The weathered hand caressed the side of Dean's face and he tried to move away. He did manage a grimace of disgust which caused the demon to laugh.

"You know, all those rumors about you…they seem pretty true. Don't look so bewildered, everyone's talking about it. Mr. Serious, all work no play, doesn't that make Jack a dull boy?" He scratched his head as if thinking. "Oh does that make Dean a dull demon? Would all this be different if I was pretty and young, like that demon your brother enjoys screwing? Would you respect me more then?"

"Demons are all the same, just a lot of black smoke and bull shit. I don't care if you're riding a pretty girl or an old hag, it's all the same to me. I'll tear you to shreds, rip the skin from your face and feed it to you…I'll take……" Dean stopped. He wasn't in Hell anymore, wasn't a torturer. He was human and he had morals, what good was he to condemn them when he was talking the same talk.

"What kind of torture is that? Mediocre if you ask me, sounds like a dreadfully boring way to spend eternity. Now me, I prefer the theatre. Even topside there's always a good show. I like possessing men, makes for a better fight, human males are all drippy tender when they know I'm a female. There's not much of a hunt in that. Know what I mean? Nothing better than a good hunt Mr. Winchester." Jellisa was no more original than any other demon he met in the pit, and she was just as full of herself. "Well, if you're the predator it's all good, not so much fun for the prey." Raymond's face was inches from his ear. "Sorry Dean, this is my game, so this time, you get to be the prey."

Dean growled from between clenched teeth. "So what, so this time you win, but next time, I'll show you what kind of work I do. And I promise you, you'll wish I was theatrical."

"You are amusing…." There was a slight feminine chuckle. …."but caught. This feel like being back on the rack Dean? You don't like it do you? I know you're the aggressive type, and dishing out pain's a lot more fun, but Hell's a given and take kinda location. Sometimes you're the bug, sometimes you're the windshield." Raymond Crandall, possessed by the demon Jellisa, looked towards the couch were Angela Markham sat stunned.

"Come here my little whore, I'm feeling generous today. We can share our little toy." Angela no longer looked as eager to attack Dean, but she moved closer to the table to take in his prone form. "Don't worry, he's done fighting, and I'll hold him still for you." Dean rolled his eyes, he'd been through decades in Hell, a middle aged witch coming on to him was nothing.

ೞ

Ruby smiled at Sam who lay across the bed, his open eyes fixed upon the ceiling. The meditation she had taught him months ago allowed him to focus his energies, but it worked best when coupled with the ritual Sam was reluctant to use. With both he found not only could he exorcise demons more quickly, but he had no nosebleeds or painful headaches, and other powers began to manifest. After Alastair had proven too much for Sam, Ruby reminded him he was not fully exploring his strengths, but no amount of cajoling on her part could change his mind. She's found her in with him, Dean in peril. What they were doing would be enough to locate the demon, and hopefully Dean wouldn't be far behind.

When Sam agreed to submit to Ruby's training it had been impossible to know which power would manifest once he began to focus. Usually "psychic kids" seemed to have a dominant gift. At first, Sam had been granted visions or death omens, but that seemed to be only a taste of what his real natural gift would be. In Sam it was immediately apparent once training started that it was exorcism, one of the most difficult gifts to master. This meant he should have had an easy time mastering all the lesser abilities, but Sam was a difficult student. Clearly stubbornness was a Winchester family trait.

Training Sam had proved to be no easy task. She had overestimated, thinking that like other psychic children before him he would just flick a switch and power up. Evidently, the wiring was faulty, or just grounded somehow. Ruby had to press Sam to meditate daily, to harness the power of his blood, and this he accepted and allowed freely. Her student was growing more capable and the hope returned that he could best Lillith. It was when she introduced the next step in her training that she met with the brick wall of Winchester determination, and this had happened weeks before Dean's return. With his big brother back, Sam had grow increasingly reluctant. Ruby's fears that his abilities would go dormant again were strengthened by Sam's ineffectiveness with Alastair. Theoretically Sam should have been able to pull any demon out, but Alastair proved too much. Perhaps teaching him to meditate on his other skills might ease him back to exorcising again.

Ruby sat in a chair across from him watching. Spread out before her on the end table were several items necessary to work her focusing spell, one of which Sam had sworn he wouldn't use again, his blood. Her spell gave strength to the holder of power, and channeled their abilities. It bore a similarity to the way witches gained their power by sacrificing to demons, but in this case Sam didn't need to prostitute himself to a demon, because, unlike the human she had once been, he wasn't, not fully. He didn't need a demon to give him strength; Azazel had taken care of that a long time ago. Sam sourced his own power, her spell only helping him to channel it.

In this state of relaxation, Sam should be able to farsee. When she initiated their lessons it was the first gift she expected he'd be able to use. It was a natural cousin to the visions that once frequented his mind. However, Sam had disappointingly never controlled what he could see and they'd given up trying, strangely enough concentrating instead on the more difficult task of exorcism. Finally, as the exorcisms became easier, Sam found he could fall into a "farseeing" trance and locate demons. Then, three months ago, with the return of his brother, Sam's skills faded. Ruby feared a weakened Sam could cost them everything.

If Sam was truly in control and at the level seven months of training should have provided, he should have easily pinpointed the location of the demon responsible for the town's despair. But Ruby knew as a teacher, she'd gotten the short straw, because when it came to honing his psychic powers, Sam was riding the short bus. The whole apocalypse would be over by the time Sam stepped up his game, if he ever did.

*********

_Bavaria 1353_

_Rosy had been channeling her powers with more ease, doing less drifting off, and Ruby knew it was due to the ritual she had learned from Frau Goehler. The frau was nothing like Mother Helena. For one, she was younger, still had her own teeth and a string of secret lovers. Frau Goehler made it no secret that she preferred younger gifted Rosy to Ruby. She'd sent Ruby the most vile tasks while spending the day training Rosy. Ruby was currently stooped over in their enormous garden weeding out the vegetables. She wasn't allowed near the herbs, nor had Frau Goehler continued her training in midwifery. But as much as Ruby _

_hated being at the Frau's pleasure, she knew it was far better than the life the girls had led after Fredrich and Mother Helena's death. And at least Rosy was safe._

_Rosy was several feet away from her weeding a row of horehound, at least Ruby could still recognize it's spindly growth sticking up in the patch. She kept up her own studies of the herbs and their properties longing for the day when she could be of more use than just cleaning out chamber pots. They wouldn't have to be stuck with Frau Goehler forever, not at the rate Rosy seemed to be learning. They'd open their own business soon enough. Or at least that's the dream she kept in her head as she toiled._

_Rosy made her way to her sister and gave her an affectionate hug. "Frau's at market, she won't bother us for a few hours."_

"_Can't stop now, posy, she'll know."_

"_She'll believe what I tell her." Rosy's look was cold. She saw the painful reaction it caused her sister and softened it a bit. "Look, we can go to the upper meadow, I need some foxglove and we can pick some wild flowers. It'll be like old times, just the two of us, no worries."_

"_Since when have we ever been without worries?" She placed her hand on her sister's arm, but drew away worried. "What's this?"_

_Hiding under her sleeve Rosy had a bandage wrapped around her forearm. It's nothing, cut myself while chopping hemlock."_

"_Hemlock's a poison, there's nothing good you can do with that."_

"_I don't question the Frau, she's taught me so much, and taken care of us Ruby." She touched her sister's face sweetly. "You've sacrificed enough for me, now I want to help you."_

"_By bleeding for her?"_

"_What are you saying? Do you think I did this on purpose?"_

"_Well, did you?"_

"_I've learned so much, no one can do anything to us against our will, no man will ever hurt you again, what I do works, and I'm getting better at it. We won't need Goehler much longer, will find our own place."_

"_And do what? Tell fortunes? This isn't what I want for you."_

"_This is what I want sister, I have abilities, I don't know why I have been given these gifts, but I'm going to use them, for us. Come with me to the meadow. You deserve a rest." _

" _It's too hot;, if you're insisting on time off, I'd rather nap in the shade. You go pick me a bouquet little one."_

"_Come with me." The words sounded like they were spoken on the wind. Ruby turned back towards her sister as she felt an invisible tug on her body. "Come to the meadow." As the words were spoken Ruby again felt the pull and knew in an instant it had come from her little sister. She fell to her knees, even as she felt the need to get up and go after the girl. _

_Ruby lifted her arms to the sky. "Dear Lord, what have you done to my sister?" Rosy still had not moved, nor did she continue with her compulsion. At her sister's words she looked to the ground. _

"_I'm sorry Sister, I just wanted to-"_

"_Go from my sister you demon!" Ruby screamed._

"_Ruby! I'm not a demon, I'm just using some magic, I just wanted to see what would happen."_

_She was a child playing with fire, learning the dark arts from a cruel woman who was likely into witchcraft. She was not a demon, just a scared and confused girl who wanted to make things better for her sister and herself. Ruby felt shame at her utterance and immediately went to her sister and pulled her into an embrace. "We need to leave this place, it isn't godly what you do, it isn't natural. You have to stop."_

"_Why, I don't hurt anyone."_

"_Yet. What exactly can you do?"_

"_I farsee, I can make people think they want to do something, but what I really want to be able to do is to use my touch to heal. But so far, I seem to only be able to make people think they feel better, but they are still sick. With more practice, I know I'll get it."_

"_Practice?"_

"_I'd rather not talk about it now."_

"_We have to…" Ruby noticed her sister was suddenly in a panic._

"_Shhh, she's back already!"_

"_Rosy!" Frau Goehler shouted from the edge of the garden. "I need you in the house. Ruby, this garden is a mess, are you too daft to keep it up?"_

_Ruby went to her sister and took her arm. "You can't have her, she's just a girl, my sister, you'll not harm her."_

"_You really are daft, or mad. I'm not hurting her I'm preparing her, giving her a proper education."_

"_Education, I'm sure the nuns at Gerstwald Abbey wouldn't agree with you, nor would the townspeople if they knew what you were doing. You'll stop now or I'll tell the Elders."_

"_An shall I tell Father Benedict how you came to me, with a growing problem, and how you took the herbs that Heaven won't allow. That's better, you're calmer now. Your sister has abilities not of this world, she is very special, very gifted. Would you deny her, would you prevent her from becoming more than just a town harlot? Think on this as you weed the vegetables. Rosy and I have to get ready for our clients."_

_Ruby watched helplessly as her sister turned her back on her and followed the Frau to the house. She wanted nothing more than to leave this horrible place, but there was no way in Heaven or on Earth she'd ever leave Rosy behind. If only Rosy would see her abilities controlled her, not the other way around. Ruby tore into the weeds with a vengeance, there had to be a way to stop this, a way to get her sister back._


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter Seven_

Sam startled Ruby from her memories. "We need to go!" He was already off the bed and hitting the speed dial button to Dean's phone. "It's at Angela Markham's."

Ruby ran her fingers through her hair and affected a most indifferent posture. "Took you long enough to figure it out." Sam was guessing she was quickly regretting being so flippant towards him. For all her talk about remembering what it was like to be human she had forgotten what Dean met to him. She needed to be reminded who came in first for his affection.

Ruby coughed and put her hand to her throat as the silent message Sam was sending out got through to her. Sam stood with one hand on his cell phone and the other at his side. Relaxed, it was so effortless with her, poor girl was at his mercy. As were all demons. Moments like this reminded him of Azazel's call to lead a demon army; though what the Hell he'd do with a bunch of demons following him around was still beyond his imagination. It didn't matter his power over them, he still liked it best when he dispatched them to Hell, loved when they knew their souls were about to wink out of existence. He had no reason to exact Hell on Earth. It wasn't in his plan. Sure, it was nice to be obeyed, but random unpredictable violence, not so good.

Ruby's hand was still at her throat and he thought he detected tears in her eyes as she stared at him in disbelief. Her feet couldn't budge from where they were rooted on the floor despite the obvious effort in the wiggle of her hips. In an instant he advanced upon her and had her hair in his hand, his breath was hot on her neck. Sam caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror behind Ruby's head. His eyes flickered yellow for a moment; then returned to normal. He traced her jaw with his finger; then leaned his forehead into her own before Ruby finally found her voice.

"Control Sam. You own this power, not the other way around." After mere seconds he pulled back from her and placed his attention back to the phone again as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't just tried to pull her from the coma girl's body. The damn phone did nothing but ring. Sam resisted the urge to throw it against the wall and pocketed it instead.

Ruby stood in the doorway. "Let's go! Time's wasting." She was acting like what just happened didn't scare her, but he knew he'd succeeded. And he felt like crap for pushing his powers on her like that. He was no better than Ava, the secretary from Peoria, who like him, shared the curse of death visions only to have it blossom int ot he ability to control demons. Ava, who in desperation, learned how to summon demons to her bidding. Yet, despite the lack of morality in his actions, and he was pretty certain, choking the demon smoke out of Ruby was not very ethical, he felt strangely satisfied. When they found the demon behind all this sickness, he just might need to do more than exorcise it. Ruby found she could walk again and her hasty exit from the room reminded Sam it wasn't just to get them a car.

Sam took one last survey of the room, shoved his gun into his waistband and went to meet up with Ruby outside. She was a few parking spaces away from sitting staring straight ahead in an older Ford with the engine magically running. After climbing into the passenger seat Sam tried Dean's phone a half dozen times with no results. There was no reason to leave a message, Dean had to be in danger, but at least he was carrying the knife. Sam took small comfort in that and hoped they wouldn't be too late.

Sam knew Ruby could drive faster than Dean, and as their stolen car whipped up the highway he hoped they didn't attract the attention of the police. He wasn't sure what kind of story they could spin and he wasn't really up to using the Obi-Wan "mind Whammy" technique that Andy found so easy. In fact he wasn't sure if he was able to use it at all. He'd tried a few times with Ruby with only minimal success. It seemed to work when it wanted to and not on his time schedule. Ruby had told him in no uncertain terms he could find some other willing victim to be his guinea pig and they'd be none the wiser for his skills were so lacking.

Of course after having done two blood rituals in two days, maybe he was up to a full boat load of Jedi Mind tricks.

ೞ

Ruby was focused and unconcerned as she pressed the accelerator even further to the floor taking them past 85 MPH. The old car shook like crazy. If it broke down they were screwed. Whether they arrived on time to save Dean should have been none of her concern, yet here she was racing madly up a highway in a stolen car to do just that. And it wasn't as if Sam's rather nasty attempt at compulsion was what forced her hand, she just…wanted to. Lillith wanted Dean back in Hell; so that was enough to make her desperate to save him.

Sam sat beside her surprisingly calm, not panicked that they might be too late to save his brother. Sure Dean had made his own choices and gotten himself into this mess, but that wasn't enough to condemn him. Sam's willingness to exercise his power over her had been a surprise, his lack of remorse at its effect, was worrisome. She needed him sharp, but in control, and willing to use human moral standards. Well, somewhat skewed standards, but if he started acting with demonic ruthlessness, he would fail in his mission.

And she would fail to have had any purpose at all.

_Bavaria 1358_

_Two months had passed since Frau Goehler had died of the plague. The clients who came for herbs, fortunes, or midwifery found themselves satisfied and the girls fell into a happy rhythm of caring for each other and their new household. Ruby knew she shouldn't be happy to have the Frau gone, but the woman had despised her, and had corrupted Rosy._

_And that was one casualty of their relationship with the older woman. Rosy was firmly entrenched in using her powers. They came easily and unbidden. Ruby tried not to interfere, but there were always those little reminders…the times when Rosy would go behind locked doors to work the ritual magic she used to stay powered. The "clients" Rosy refused to talk about…those damn golden flashes from her eyes._

_Rosy's behaviors didn't seem to attract the attention of the townspeople. Rosy knew how to affect the innocent persona that endeared her to others. As they walked down the street they were always given friendly greetings, if only people knew. _

_Ruby looked up from her sewing as her sister entered from outside. Her hair was matted with weeds and her blouse covered in blood. Her face didn't match the disheveled gore of her clothing. It was ecstatic._

"_Where've you been? You missed dinner." Ruby wasn't trying to push a fight, but she was sick of the secrecy. Her sister smiled._

"_The moon was full and it was so warm I just started walking and before I knew it I was at the river." She blushed a bit and Ruby smiled knowingly. "Yes." She dipped her shoulders innocently. "I was with Wil."_

_Ruby opened her arms. "Come here and let me fix your hair." Rosy sat before her sister and as Ruby worked her fingers through the snarls she found the courage to say what she really needed to._

"_Did you have a bloody nose or did Wil?" _

"_It was me, I don't want you to worry."_

"_Because I would, that's a lot of blood. You should drink some of your tonic."_

"_I'm fine. Really."_

"_I bet." Ruby was barely audible._

"_What is it?" Rosy pulled away and glared at Ruby defiantly. "Are you mad I was with Wil? I know what I'm doing." Rosy's lips tightened as they did when she grew angry. "Are you jealous? Is that it. You can't stand it that I have more than you. Wil, the clients, my abilities."_

"_I don't want to fight." Ruby tried to hug her sister, but Rosy backed away. _

"_Good. I'm too tired to try to get you to see things my way. Good night." With that Rosy headed to her bedroom, leaving Ruby to stare at her dirtied and bloodied back._

_***_

In the present time, he demon called Ruby looked to her right. Her passenger was a stubborn ass who desperately clung to his humanity. They were alike that way. Even in Hell, there was a part of her that would not let go of the woman she once was. It had not been that way for her sister. Rosy had embraced the darkness, thinking that the whole time she was in control. But it wasn't long before the power proved too much.

"Penny for your thoughts." She looked to Sam, but he was staring out the passenger window. "Sam, you got it together?" He turned to her and relief flooded her very being, his eyes were normal, he looked relaxed, ready. "We'll be on time. Concentrate for me will ya, I need to know when to turn."

"Sure." Came his one word reply, and his face again turned toward the window.

_Bavaria 1359_

"_Ruby, I'll make them pay for what they did to you." A vicious frightened look was etched in Rosy's face. Ruby tried to sit up from her mattress, but her chest burned, her ribs were tight and sore from the beating she had taken. Rosy brought her some water and helped her to drink. "You need to sleep, don't worry, everything will be fine." Her features had softened with concern. Ruby was too tired to fight, her head still ached from where that ignorant cattle herder had hit her with a rock. Rosy had stopped them, had forced them to go home. Somehow her sister had gotten her back to their house, but Ruby could no longer remember, nor could she fully remember what had caused the townsfolk to start calling her out as a witch. She never used dark magic, just the ordinary spells for health and harvest, and with fewer people dying of the plague, the irrational fears of witchcraft had died down too. Ruby had thought they would have some peace in their lives. She was thinking how horribly wrong she was as she drifted back to sleep._

_Rosy slipped from their home and made her way along the back path to the village. They would pay for hurting her sister…they would pay with their lives._

_***_

_Hours later Ruby heard her sister return. "It's done. He can't hurt you again."_

"_They didn't mean it." Her voice was still weak as she tried to explain. "He was just so filled with grief."_

"_Women die in childbirth all the time. You can't go around attacking the midwife for it." She put another cold cloth over Ruby's forehead. "Sleep, rest, it'll all be okay." Ruby felt the thickness of sleep covering her and she gave into it despite the nagging feeling that Rosy had done something unspeakable. She could think on it tomorrow….tomorrow._

ೞ

Sam let his mind trance as Ruby drove. The picture in his mind was crystal clear, like having a secret camera in another location. It was much stronger and purposeful than any of the old visions he had years before. He could see the demon, it had possessed an older man. He lifted a coffee mug to his lips, but otherwise remained emotionless. Only a foot away was the woman Sam was trying to track, Angela Markham. The two seemed to be talking to another who was across from them, but Sam saw nothing. It had to be Dean, his hex bag prevented him from being traced by any form of magic. He saw in his vision Angela reach across the table; then the older man lunched forward quickly. Next thing Sam knew the demon threw a punch. There was a feeling of excitement coming from both the witch and the demon.

Sam's eyes snapped open. "Faster Ruby, that's the turn right up ahead. They're in the third trailer on the right. The familiar black Impala greeted them in front of the double wide Angela owned. Sam jumped from the car before it had fully stopped and raced towards the porch.

"Remember what we've been working on." Sam nodded at his underworld teacher and took the steps at once ending on a small landing that sufficed as a porch in better weather. A lawn chair covered in snow sat waiting for better days. Both knew that knocking was akin to painting a target on your chest, but Sam wasn't up to blowing doors off their hinges with his mind, but that didn't mean his over sized foot wasn't up to the task. Ruby stepped aside towards the snowy chair to give him room. At the force of Sam's boot he door ripped from the jam tearing chunks of wood in its wake and making a resounding thud against the wall as it whipped backwards. Ruby followed him in.

A rather pleased looking Angela Markham pulled back from Dean who was laid flat across her dining room table. The same number caller from the church, the elderly Clint Eastwood, flashed his eyes black, but he needn't bother, Sam could taste the demon soul inside. Sam took one look at Dean's prone form and memories of Dean's last moments before the Hellhounds took him flashed back in his head.

ೞ

Angela came flying at them with a knife in hand. Ruby grabbed her arm and in a twirling motion shoved her back to the couch and stole the knife away. The demon elicited a laugh from Sam when he lifted his hand towards him. In two large strides Sam advanced on the demon hitting him with such savagery that Raymond's body flew back several feet and collided with the china cabinet. The demon Jellisa inside cracked her neck and was on her feet in a fighting stance. Again, Sam used a short chop with his palm to Raymond's face and the older man's blood was everywhere.

"She's into the theatre Sam, don't you see how much fun she's having?" Dean twisted, but the invisible bonds that held him down still stuck. "I think the host's body is already dead."

"Little busy Dean." Was all Sam replied. The demon kept coming at him, and each time he pummeled at its face, not allowing a single punch to get through.

""Ruby, you gonna lend Sam a hand or just let him use his hand?" Ruby smirked all too knowingly as Sam,

with a well practiced move, lifted his arm and aimed at the demon. But Jellisa had other ideas. With preternatural skill she leapt upon the table and straddled Dean. Raymond's large farmer hands wrapped themselves around Dean's throat and began to press. Dean felt the pain and pressure immediately, but it did not last long before the weight was pulled from him. He was glad the demon was no longer on him, but it was his brother's face he followed with concern.

Somehow the demon had gotten across the room again, but Sam seemed done with the fisticuffs. His right hand came forward, the fingers splayed. And Dean saw it, those eyes, the anger, like he held when he'd emptied an entire clip in Jake Talley.

Dean could only lie there and watch unhappily, expecting the black smoke to come pouring out, as Sam used his mind rather than a Latin ritual to exorcise the demon. Time seemed to have stopped and all that was heard was the sound of water dripping in Angela's kitchen faucet. Raymond's body should have been panting from the exertion, but the smart mouthed demon Jellisa had fallen suddenly quite silent. When Sam took a step closer, the demon suddenly looked comical, arms flailing to help him keep his balance as he swayed forward, and it was obvious the reason was that the demon's feet were firmly planted on the carpeted floor. The demon was held by an invisible force, which was coming from his brother. It's eyes were wide with the knowing that it wasn't going to end very well at all.

Sam had told Dean he had used telekinesis only once a few years before when he had a vision Dean was about to be shot in the head. He had used this power to move a large cabinet which had trapped him in a closet. To his knowledge Sam had never used it again. And now he and Ruby had come bursting into the trailer together with Sam displaying skills like an athlete on steroids. He wondered what exactly Ruby had been teaching his brother.

"I've got some questions to ask you." A wisp of smoke oozed from the old man's nostrils, and Sam tipped his head to the right. "Hold on, we'll get to the exorcism soon enough." Sam moved a step closer, and the demon leaned away

"Sam Winchester, what makes you think I'll talk?" The scene replayed just like the first time Dean had come upon Sam and Ruby's "lessons". Ruby stood by watching; looking far too entertained. Sam was engrossed in trying to get information from a black eyed skank. His efforts would be futile. They'd tried this last year, even when Sam was still relying on Latin to send the demons packing. Not one of them would speak a word of Lillith's where about. Better to be wiped from existence than to suffer Lillith's wrath.

Dean felt his body relax as the demon was loosing her powers fighting Sam's hold and he was able to climb off the table. His jaw hurt just a little from his beating, but that was nothing compared to what Sam had dished out to the old man Jellisa was riding. One eye was swollen shut, blood still poured from his nose and two large gouges on his head. And Sam didn't appear to be quite finished yet.

He retrieved his gun from the floor and went to the couch where Angela was staring frightened and confused at the turn of events. What a relief she'd finally shut up. It amazed him what lengths humans would go through to achieve power. Now she'd see all her efforts were in vain. Despite the fact that Ruby stood by her with a knife in hand, the woman was paying Sam her full attention. Clearly she had not predicted Sam and Ruby's rescue, nor had she counted on Sam breaking out with his psychic powered mojo.

Dean roughly pulled her to her feet and pushed her into her kitchen and away from Sam's demonstration of whatever it was Sam thought he needed to do. Personally, he thought the demon was the least of their worries. Angela had committed murder through the use of spell work. Try explaining that to the police. They were stuck between a rock and a hard place with human's who committed evil. For now, he'd have to get her tied up, at least not have to worry about her trying to take one of them out through spell work or something more conventional like a kitchen knife.

One hand held tight to his .45 keeping it trained on the witch while the other rummaged through a drawer until he felt his fingers grip a roll of black electrical tape. Not as strong as duct tape, but just as useful. Dean made quick work of securing Angela to one of her kitchen chairs. Watching from a far to see if Sam was safe, but not close enough to see the cold hatred in his brother's eyes.

"Where's Lillith?" Sam spoke each word slowly, evenly.

"What the hell is he? I've never seen a witch powerful enough to do that." Angela twisted as Dean secured her wrists to the chairback.

"Shut your trap, whore!" Ruby moved over to Angela's chair. "This isn't your business." Dean looked to Ruby. The two faced each other with venomous hatred. "Leave him alone." Her words were just as directed at Dean.

"Sam stop!" Dean commanded. "Sam, just say the Latin." Ruby's eyes shifted from Sam to Dean. "What the hell did you do to my brother bitch. I leave him alone for a couple of hours and he'd freakin' using telekinesis. Sam, I swear I'm gonna kill every witch, demon, and skank in this trailer and haul your ass of to the nearest psychiatric hospital and have you committed."

"Shut up Dean! This isn't helping Sam." Ruby was furious. "We came here to save your ass, so shut up and let Sam do what he's good at."

Ruby had no time to back away from Dean's fist and he made contact with her jaw. She moved with it and countered with her own right hook to his face followed by her knee in his groin. "I'm sick of your shit. You wanna kill Lillith, you want to save the world from the apocalypse, then let your brother do what he was born for. Stop whining and stop trying to run his life."

Dean grunted from his crumpled position on the floor. "Cause you're doin' such a stellar job running it instead of me. Is that it?"

"Sam doesn't do anything he doesn't want to. If you hadn't been so busy with your little angel side jobs maybe you'd have noticed that Sam makes his own decisions, that's right Dean, he doesn't need you bossing him around anymore."

"Great acting Ruby, maybe you'll win an Oscar." Dean grunted and grimaced some more as he pulled himself back to a semi-standing position. "Where's the knife?"

"Children shouldn't play with knives." He lunged at her and succeeded in sending both of them to the floor. Fighting Ruby was like fighting someone of equal strength and ability, it took more creativity to best her, but in the end Dean rolled up from the floor holding Ruby's infamous demon killing knife.

Dean left Ruby stewing by the door and crossed what little space existed in the trailer towards the living room where Sam still had the possessed old man pinned. Sam had tuned out their arguing. His jaw was clenched with fury as he screamed into the older man's face. "Tell me! Tell me now!"

The demon started to shake, wisps of black smoke coming from his mouth and nose. Sam closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. The demon smoke retreated back into the man's body.

"This is nothing, just wait…" The possessed man grasped his chest.

"Sam!" Dean rushed forward surprised the older man was still taking the abuse to his physical body. This broke Sam's concentration which was split among holding the demon still, keeping it's essence within the body and commanding it to speak.

The demon's thoughts were heard via its host's voice. "Ha, the great Sam Winchester can't do it all."

Dean pressed Ruby's knife under the demon's chin. "Tell him what he wants to know or I'll send you back to Hell you worthless son of a bitch."

"Lillith says thanks for helping open the seals Sam, this guys gonna be dead when I vacate his meat. And he makes lucky number seven." He turned his sly eyes upon Dean. "Maybe she'll have work for you Dean, once we get you back downstairs. I heard you were Alistair's little prodigy."

"Gank him Dean." Sam shook his head and stepped back, but the demon possessed man didn't move from his position. Dean didn't like that his brother looked murderous, but he was more than happy to deliver the blow rather than having Sam exorcise with his mind. Sam had already powered up with more Jedi skills than he'd like to see in a lifetime. The knife went into the man's heart, a charge of light went out from it and the demon was gone. On the floor lay the body of eighty-two year old Raymond Crandall. The brothers knelt over the victim. Sam's normal look of remorse had returned to his face. Dean heaved and pulled the knife from the old man's chest.

"She needs to die." It was Ruby's voice coming from the kitchen, flat and calm. "She's a summoner." The witch looked at Ruby; then to the brothers.

"And you call me a whore, when you're working with demon spawn or whatever he is." Ruby resisted the urge to smack the smile off the woman's face.

Dean was less apprehensive. Angela's head snapped sideways from the slap to her cheek. "He's not a demon, Bitch!"

ೞ

"Let me have the knife Dean. I'll take care of the witch. You two should go." Ruby used a gentle tone. There was no reason to be at odds with Dean, unless he got in Sam's way.

"No, it's too late." Dean went towards the kitchen sink where he found a dish towel to wipe the knife on. He waved the cleaned weapon towards Angela. "He was the seventh death, it wakes the sleeper, at least that's what she kept saying. Killing her won't make one bit of difference."

Dean was hoping for back up, longing to hear Sam say that they only eliminated evil. But instead his brother had fallen silent. Sam's eyes closed briefly and he drew a great breath. Dean gave him a sidelong glance, it had to be another thing Ruby had taught him. It didn't look right, nor human exactly, and what Sam said next verified Dean's suspicion.

"I don't sense any other demons. Ruby, do you?"

"No, but if it's Merihem, he's not just a run of the mill demon, he's probably using tricks we haven't figured out."

"Could Merihem be this sleeper demon?" Sam directed his question at no one in particular. Dean's brow furrowed at Sam as if to say, come again, and Sam seemed to have finally realized his brother was also in the room and turned to face him directly. "The spell work on the card was a series of sigils directed at the demon Merihem. A demon of pestilence, sickness, the plague. Angela must have used the cards to connect the victims to the demon, sort of like a sacrifice. But what I don't understand is why?" Sam looked at Angela. "What were you hoping to gain?"

"The demon that was possessing Raymond, she liked to possess men. She said I was her whore, but if I got her the seven souls of summoning, which would bring Merihem up from the pit, then I would be in Hell's favor. And you shouldn't be so quick to judge me by appearances, there's a lot more here than meets the eye."

"You sold your soul to a demon. You're damned you know." Ruby smiled at the witch knowingly.

"I was damned for a lot less a long time ago. That demon you killed was nothing." She directed her icy glare at Sam. "I sure hope your spell work is up to the task of meeting the sleeper. I don't know of many demons who would want to lend you their power in order to defeat one of their kind, especially one as powerful." Sam shifted on his feet. "It will be amusing watching you try to take him out."

"Really? You don't know me very well. I happen to like a challenge." Sam lowered his voice to a menacing whisper.

"Kill her?" Ruby repeated.

"No, she's already done the damage she needs to. We'll leave her taped to a chair, see if her own spell work is up to the task of Houdining out of this." Dean was giving direction, trying desperately to exert his control. He seemed ready to leave, but Sam stood firm frowning at Raymond Crandall.

"So this demon was just like a herald?" Again with the questions addressed to no one in particular.

"Where there's black magic, there's always a demon, short bus." Dean twisted his lip in a snarl at the sound of Ruby's voice using his words, but it had to be said. "What are you waiting for Sam? She's going to kill more people, maybe not today or even for the rest of this year, but sooner or later she'll want something, and the power will tempt her. She'll go back to it, they always do."

Dean was barging into the argument again, raising himself to the highest levels of annoying. But he had a reason, it seemed Ruby and Sam had their own agenda that did not include him, and that was not how things were gonna work. "Ok, so we gank her, but what if she really has summoned this Mary Poppins or whatever, it won't prove anything." He'd resheathed the knife as if to emphasize his point.

Ruby figured Sam drew the line at humans too, but once humans mixed it up with the supernatural they were fair game. And during Dean's absence Sam had shown less reluctance to do what was needed. He'd kill Angela if he thought it was necessary, but would he go against his brother's judgment?

Sam wasn't participating in the conversation, he was staring rather slack jawed at the snow covered yard outside.

"You feel it, don't you?" Angela's words were directed at Sam. "That's Hell, and it's coming, and it's gonna take a lot more than that magic knife to send it away."

Sam cupped Angela's jaw with his hand. "Oh, I don't need a knife Angela."

There was a rumble coming from the distance like te sound of a train moving rapidly towards them. Except this was no train, this was the sound of an approaching demon, one who could summon the thunder and make quite a grand entrance.

"Oh, crap, just great!" Despite Sam's glazed look, Dean knew what was coming earlier than his little brother. He shouted at Sam. "Sam! Drop!" There was barely enough time for them to hit the floor before an unholy wind sent glass shards flying over their backs. Thunder surrounded them and as Dean regained his feet he saw a stream of black demon smoke pour directly into Angela. Sam lifted his hand, but was unsuccessful in catching the tail end of the fast moving demon as it found its human host.

Dean rushed forward, now he was ready to kill Angela, but the knife left his hand, tugged by the invisible pull of telekinesis. Ruby's knife followed an invisible trajectory and slid across the floor. Dean, flailing in the momentum of the attack, caught himself just in front of her.

"Dean Winchester, it's a pleasure. I've heard so much about you." She purred slyly. "What a reunion! And here's Hell's favorite little demon spawn, Sammy Winchester, in the flesh. And umm, umm, umm, what flesh you have. You know, if you boys just stopped being so uptight we could have a lot of fun. I've always been into little manage a trois." Ruby grasped her throat as the demon spoke. "Of course I'm not sharing with this bitch." Her invisible grip tightened on Ruby and Ruby dropped to the floor. "This traitor whore should die."

"I don't think so." Sam spoke the words quietly, but with power. He raised his hand, immediately getting a small stream of black smoke coming from her mouth.

"Wait!" She gulped down her own smoke. "I'll tell you where Lillith is." Dean looked to Ruby who lay on the floor unconscious and then to Sam who actually stopped at the demon's words. The demon needed killing; there was no time for a discussion, which was nothing more than a mouthful of lies.

"She's lying Sam. You don't know where Lillith is…you …" Dean grasped at his throat, clawing for air.

"Let's see if you got the juice Sammy." Dean grabbed at his chest as a spasm of pain tore at his lungs. He could neither inhale nor exhale the air currently in him and the pressure was growing intense. Spots of black swam before his eyes and then there was nothing.

ೞ

"Sam Winchester." The demon laughed. "Last man standing, winner of Azazel's beauty pageant, this joke's on you." Sam shifted his gaze briefly to Dean, whose posture had slackened. He laid there with his arms on his chest where they had been as he felt his heart in the demon's grasp. Dean was no longer struggling for air; he was simply not breathing at all.

"Take one last look at your brother; I'm going to send him back to the pit-he hasn't graduated yet. I guess you might call me Hell's truant officer." She smiled so sure of herself as she popped the tape binding the physical body of Angela Markham to the chair. But the demon had no time to stand.

Sam's eyes narrowed. "There is no sleeper."

"And they said you were a prodigy, hmmm, took you long enough to catch on. Dean is ours…I'm taking him back."

"No." Sam raised his hand with practiced skill and Angela's body jolted as if she'd been shot with the colt. Her back arched against the chair and her body remained ridged. It barely seemed a fair fight. A long continuous stream of black sulfur poured from her mouth and nose as Sam pulled the demon from Angela's body at a speed he had never before achieved. Her head slumped forward as the last bit of demon was exorcised. Red fire surrounded scorched the linoleum around her unconscious figure.

Sam wasted no time getting to Dean. His lips had turned blue and his face was an awful grey pallor. Sam bent low to Dean's mouth hoping to feel warm air on his face. He was rewarded with a shallow pained breath, but Dean was breathing, he was alive. Why had they even argued? Most of the time it was all about protecting each other, and for what? It had all been a trap, and elaborate plan calculated to kill Dean. Dean's chest rose slightly, his injuries didn't appear life threatening.

He was about to check on Ruby when Angela came running at him with Ruby's knife raised high. It was inches from him, something a quick roll would avert, but given Angela's momentum it would pass Sam and enter Dean. He wasn't thinking as he pushed out with his arm. A wave of power came from him pushing the witch through the air away from the Winchesters. Angela flew back in the direction she had come from. Her back contacted the chair she had been tied to and both chair and woman flew across the distance of the kitchen.

Sam stalked across the short distance, pausing just long enough to pick up the knife where it had fallen. Angela Markham lay upon her counter, a look of horror across her face. Sam hovered above her menacingly. "Ruby was right."

ೞ

Dean woke to Sam looking over him. Sam placed his long fingers on Dean's neck, checking for a pulse. "Dean, say something. You okay?" His younger brother had his other hand on his chest. It was then that Dean realized Sam had unbuttoned his shirt and was tugging at his tee shirt. Part of him wanted to protest Sam getting all touchy feely, but that would have required energy he couldn't summon. Something soft was under his head and it dawned on him slowly that Sam wasn't wearing his coat. He blinked trying make sense of it all.

"Just take it easy, all right? You'll be fine. I don't see any marks on you, no bruises." Sam pulled his tee-shirt down and gave him his most insincere "I'm not worried look".

Dean's last memory was of the black demon smoke, and a horrible tight pain in his chest. He wondered if it was a heart attack and swore for a moment he's have no more bacon double cheeseburgers if it would help until he remembered this was all about a demon attacking him and not his dietary habits. Oxygen loss, that had to be the reason his thoughts were cloudy. Sam, oh yes, that demon in the old man, Sam had…he couldn't think about that now. Had to draw a breath.

Dean sputtered and coughed. The pain in his throat was horrible, and he hoped it didn't show. "I'm all right." His lungs still hurt as if he had been coughing for hours. His voice was no more than a raspy whisper. "What hap...?"

Dean rolled to his side, still gasping for air. His attempt at raising himself to a sitting position had failed. Sam grasped him under his arms and helped him sit up. It was only then when the room stopped spinning that he looked to Ruby who was slowly getting to her feet. She staggered over to where he was leaning against Sam. She looked unharmed, but tired. Sam had worried lines across his forehead.

"What I miss?" Dean croaked out.

Both Sam and Ruby looked away from Dean and his eyes followed. The chair Angela had been sitting in was across the kitchen by the counter now, the back separated from the seat and splintered into three sections. The body that had formerly been Angela Markham's, lie across her counter, her head turned at an abnormal angle and the hilt of Ruby's dagger protruding from her chest. Blood dripped from the counter to the floor.

"Demon bound herself to Angela, heck Angela probably wanted it that way. So I used the knife."

"And the chair."

"Got in the way."

Dean was grateful when the dark spots clouded his vision taking him away from that room, that abnormal scene, he'd be embarrassed he fainted later, but for now, he didn't want to know more.


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter Eight_

_Impala_

_Somewhere East of Nebraska_

The three of them had ridden in silence over the long stretch of I-80 from Nebraska through Missouri, having left Elkhorn as quickly as possible. Let local law enforcement sort out the details of the plague deaths and the final two deaths at Angela's trailer. Sam doubted they'd get very far, and he imagined they'd never link a plague outbreak to two people stabbed in the heart. Anyways, that was four hours behind them. Dean seemed to be recovering; his faith in his brother's physical resilience winning out over Ruby's pleas to take him to the emergency room. Last time Dean was awake he claimed his chest finally didn't hurt when he breathed, his throat no longer felt as if he'd swallowed glass. He was sitting up now, without dizziness, but in the backseat of the Impala where he'd woke up weak and disoriented hours ago. And that was more than enough assurance that Dean would be cracking jokes and asking to drive.

After Sam had destroyed the demon Merihem possessing Angela, Sam and Ruby had carried Dean from the trailer and rushed from Elkhorn as quickly as possible without attracting attention. Now, Sam sat wide eyed, intent on the road before him. Ruby was riding shotgun, like she had during Dean's absence. He was pretty sure that wouldn't sit too well with Dean once he was fully awake. Disturbing reminders of life without him were really not welcome.

Sam glanced back in the rearview. Dean seemed alert now and able to sit up. "You feelin' all right?"

"I'll live." He croaked. "What about you? Tired, headaches, feeling drained, worn out?"

Sam didn't bother looking back in the mirror. "Why don't you ask what's really on your mind?"

"Don't tell me you're mind reading now." Did Dean regret his sarcasm? He sure did a lousy job at showing gratitude, because like it or not, he had to admit, his little brother had saved him.

Sam's focus remained on the road ahead. "Exactly, figures you'd say something like that. If it's not _**that**_ look, then it's the little digs."

"What am I suppose to say? You moved a man with your mind…just like Max Miller."

"And we all know how he turned out."

Dean pulled himself forward so that he was leaning between Sam and Ruby, but his attention was drawn completely to his brother. "Stop thinking you can finish my thoughts. It's creepy."

There was a time when that didn't used to be. When they'd spoken in unison, like twins, like four years didn't separate them. Now it felt like forty years sat between them.

"Look, I'm not going to explain myself to you. Did you see what happened back there? Hell came for you. Merihem was summoned to take you back to Hell, Dean. And I'm not going to let that happen. Jesus, Dean, we might fight, but there's just no way, no way I'm going to let them win. I don't care what it takes."

"You mean what it'll cost you. You're not going to Hell Sam, I won't allow it."

"I'm not sure you have much choice in the matter." Sam sighed. "I'm trying to make peace with that, with my heritage as well as my destiny. These powers, they're who I am, but that doesn't mean they get to own me. It's my choice how I use them. And if it means protecting you, then I won't hesitate, not like last time."

"Sam you couldn't stop the deal, and you would never have stopped Lillith-"

"You don't know that…" silence filled the car.

"Dean, if I'd stopped her, if I'd learned how to use my powers; then Nancy still be alive, Victor, God, even Meg, maybe I could have gotten to her, pulled that demon out before it was too late. There's so many others who might have lived. I could have kept you from forty years in the pit."

"Stop it Sam." Ruby finally spoke. "You can't know what you would have learned or if it would have changed anything. In hindsight we could say maybe we should have sacrificed Nancy, she died anyway, but Sam, it's done, you can't go back."

"This hurts to say it, and I mean literally, my throat still feels like hot ashes were shoved down it, but Ruby's right. Cut the self deprecating crap Sam."

"That's a word of the day if I ever heard one from you Dean." Sam actually chuckled and both Ruby and Dean smiled.

Dean, not so smoothly attempted to change the topic and Sam was more than happy to go along. What he needed to do, and how he would accomplish it, were two things best left unsaid. Ruby constantly was on him to come clear with his brother, to let him know that they were doing their damnest to find Lillith. But Sam preferred to keep things as they were because he had no doubt that if Dean knew about the blood rituals, he'd make their father's explosion when Sam snuck off to college seem more like a raindrop than the geyser it had been.

Dean leaned as far forward as the seat would allow. "Now when we gonna stop for food, I'm starving."

Sam stared gloomily into the distance and pressed the accelerator further down. Yeh, he would talk to Dean eventually, just not tonight. Tonight they'd eat, relax, celebrate being alive. He'd tell him, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not even next week, but he'd let his brother know what he did was to protect him, and others who deserved a shot at a normal life.

ೞ

Ruby had tried to tune out the argument coming from the Winchesters over Sam's use of his psychic abilities. She'd been there before with Sam. He had an arsenal of psychic powers at his disposal, but so far the only two he'd actively seek was exorcisms and farseeing, and even then he'd only farsee if he thought his efforts would yield news of Lillith. Sam had described his exorcism of Samhain, how difficult it had been to simultaneously hold him back and pull him at the same time. Ruby had patiently explained he had been using telekinesis at the time. Sam was more appalled than thrilled to know he's opened himself to this new skill. Ruby didn't press, she knew the greatest leverage to getting Sam to use his powers would be Dean's safety. There was no way Sam would allow his brother to be returned to Hell. Never before had he demonstrated it as urgently when he confronted Anna over finding an angel killing weapon. And today Sam showed again that Dean's life mattered more than any ethics. Why couldn't the pig headed older Winchester see this?

Sam's guilt trip was too much, she thought he'd worked out his over blown emo introspection, she guessed nearly having your brother lose his life again right before your eyes had proven too much. The love between siblings, it was powerful, and dangerous.

Dean Winchester would never understand his little brother the same way Ruby never understood the lengths Rosy went to for her, why that sweet child gave up her goodness to give Ruby a life she didn't deserve. Maybe the student most needing her attention was Dean. If he denied Sam the way she had Rosy….

_Bavaria 1359_

_They came at night…pounding on the door, not with fists, but with a log, shattering the front door with a single blow. The girls were out of bed in an instant to greet the trespassers. Ruby could see defiance in Rosy's eyes as the men began to list her transgressions. _

"_Tell them Ruby! Tell them the truth. I'm not a witch." Ruby felt the slight pull of her sister's compulsion. _

"_Is your sister a witch?"_

"_I don't know."_

_The first man to speak was a the miller. His look was glazed over and distant._

"_She is not a witch. She is an herbalist and a midwife." _

_The other man, who had asked Ruby if her sister was a witch, had also changed his opinion. "She is an herbalist, a church goer. We should leave here in peace. The two continued like that. Clearly being manipulated by Rosy's power._

_They would have spoken Rosy's praises all evening if the constable hadn't appeared. He entered and all heads lowered in respect. "Is this the girl that killed Hans? What do you have to say?"_

"_I didn't kill anyone." She smiled innocently. "You want to go home and let us be in peace."_

_When the constable advanced on her, it was clear her powers had no effect on him. "You most certainly are a witch." Rosy's eyes were round with the realization that she could not change the mind of the most powerful man in the village._

"_Tie her up and bring her along."_

_Rosy turned her frightened eyes to Ruby. "Sister, tell them! I'm no witch. Say something!" But Ruby stood mute, framed by the doorway, as she watched her baby sister get taken away._

_They dragged her away, bound at her wrists. Rosy turned one last time before being lifted into the miller's cart. The realization that she'd been betrayed written on her features. "Ruby why aren't you saying anything? Help me!" _

_But Ruby just stood there, condemning her with her silence. _

_*****_

"Hey, Ruby? You awake? We're stopping for food." Sam's voice broke into Ruby's memories and she jumped.

"Nice to see you can stop arguing long enough to agree on food."

"Actually, we didn't." Sam shot Dean a tight lipped look. "I wanted to stop at Taco Bell-"

"Dude! We have a long drive ahead, come on!" Dean's voice was a bit scratchy still, but he was acting like his old self ribbing his younger brother and getting the expected results. Ruby remained hopeful that they could stand by each other.

Once Sam pulled into the parking spot, Dean hopped out of the car quickly. So he had reached the door of the diner first. Out of habit he opened it for Ruby, which earned a strange glance from her and a shoulder shrug from Sam. Dean settled into the booth that gave him the best view of the Impala. Sam sat across from him, eyes to the door. The diner's placemats served double duty as a menu and Ruby wasted no time pouring over her choices. She's never been in Dean's company this long and she had a feeling she's over stayed her welcome. After eating she'd disappear; give Sam and Dean time to process their changing relationship.

Ruby had settled on a Reuben sandwich with fries on the side and was just about to mention it when the waitress walked up to the table. When Dean ordered it, her face fell, then she gathered her dignity and in her best sarcastic voice added.

"Ah, that's what I wanted."

The waitress, a thin middle aged woman named Kelly, had no idea why ordering the same thing from the menu was cause for a fight. "We have plenty, you can both get the same thing." Both Dean and Ruby cast silent daggers at each other.

"Easy now." Sam said. "You heard the lady, you can both have the Reuben." He seemed to be relishing his paternal tone. "And no kicking each other under the table." Sam asked for a cheeseburger and the waitress finally left them.

"What? It doesn't take a psychic to know you two like a book." Sam took out his phone and began to scroll through his menus. Ruby had no such distraction. She had Dean, who was once again glaring at her from across the table. This time she did kick him, and he kicked back. But neither made a sound and Sam ignored them in favor of browsing the weather channel.

Kelly distracted them for a moment with a round of cokes. Dean took a long drink of his, then fished out an ice cube which he swallowed whole. After a moment of overcoming the sting in his raw throat he resumed his staring contest.

"So, what's been going on in that demon mind of yours all this time? Hmm? Sam and I were having it out and you were Little Miss Quiet. Riding _shotgun_ in **my** car, I might add."

Sam joined the conversation then. He lifted his hands as if to ward off another argument. "Dean, you were unconscious, we had to lie you down." Dean replied with a shrug.

"I'm not sharing." Ruby put her energy into removing the wrapper from her straw and kept her eyes on the table top.

"But you could." She suddenly felt warmth surround her hands when Sam covered hers with his own and gave her his puppy dog look. And then she felt it, a subtle tug at her mind, how could she have never noticed before. He was growing stronger and more in control of his powers. He wouldn't follow the path Rosy had. She couldn't let it happen, she couldn't live through it again.

"This is hardly the topic to discuss over dinner. I was thinking of Rosy, my little sister. You did a good job Sam; you saved me and Dean from that demon. Thanks!"

"But he used his powers again." Dean growled under his breath, the diner was busy at the hour they had arrived. "It's gonna catch up with him Ruby, and you are so hell bent on pushing him that way."

"You ever see someone burned at the stake?" That stopped Dean right away. "The smell of flesh." Dean looked down, she knew she had him. For in Hell the odor of burnt flesh was everywhere, he had to know. "I wasn't watching out enough for her, I didn't help her. Truth was, she scared me." Dean jumped up from the booth.

"You're right; this is not an appropriate dinner topic." Sam didn't understand Dean and Ruby's shared experience, and she wasn't sure she wanted to go there with him, but in typical Sam fashion he needed to know. It was his first step to empathy.

"Let her talk Dean. What happened with Rosy?"

"She was burnt at the stake for witchcraft. She's been on my mind a lot lately, this case, was so similar with witches and the plague, and you. You're not Azazel's first little warrior you know."

Dean had returned to his seat. If Sam wanted to talk, he wasn't going to fight him and Ruby. But it didn't mean he had to like it. It was just another one of Ruby's masterful manipulations to get Sam to trust her.

"She went after some people who had hurt me, she attacked them. We didn't exactly have courts and juries back in the 1300's, so they just called her guilty of murder, guilty of witchcraft, and that was it. Burn witch burn." The waitress chose this time to bring their food. After distracting them for half a minute she left.

Sam reached for Ruby's hand. "What happened to you after she died?"

"Revenge, I didn't care-what did I have to live for? Know what I mean?" The object of her comments sat across from her. "Remember when Sam died, Dean?" She couldn't stop talking now, even though she desperately wanted to. It had to be Sam's influence on her mind.

"Yeh, but I didn't use black magic."

"No, your situation was much different." She said sarcastically. "You just sold your soul to a demon." She took the ketchup and gloriously poured a large puddle of the red stuff onto her plate. "Now, Hell wants you back." She lifted a french fry into the air. "I say we eat! Foods gonna get cold."

But Sam wasn't done asking 20 Questions yet. "Why? Why is it so important that Dean is there."

"Damned if I know, Sam." Ruby launched into her food, ignoring the curious stares of the Winchester brothers.

Dean ran his hand over his face; Ruby's confessional seemed over for the moment. This had been the most insight to her past ever given. He looked to Sam for answers, but Sam just shook his head. Ruby continued eating, not meeting his gaze. He knew no matter how hard he tried he'd never get Sammy's hell buddy to leave them alone, he'd just have to learn to live with her presence and hope her insight wasn't a type of betrayal because if it was he's have to kill her, and Sam would never forgive him.

As for Sam, he had no answers as to what Ruby's story of her sister being one of Azazel's psychic kids even meant. Could it be possible that century after century Azazel sought out children he wanted to infect for his end game, but the time had never ripened? Ruby had done it…the impossible…taken his appetite.

"So that's it? Just drop this whole Sam's like my little sister bomb on us and then drop it?"

"Dean, there's nothing more to say, she was killed, I turned to some serious witchcraft, we both burned in Hell. The End!"

"Yeh, but what does that mean for Sam?"

Sam's fist hit the table just hard enough to rattle the silver ware. "Hey, you know I can take care of myself."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh yeh, we saw plenty of that today, and that's why I'm worried."

"Well you don't need to be. It's under control."

Dean looked over to Ruby who was stuffing her mouth with her sandwich. For a fleeting second, she raised her head and their eyes met in understanding.


End file.
